Attack Hug
by Damnbright
Summary: 'Hugging people without consents should be illegal' Shawn attacks Lassiter with a hug and things start to turn around for them.
1. Attack Hug

**A/N: Um, first fanfic, awkward writing, possible mature contents hence rate M, actually already written next chapter. Anyway, enjoy. Thank you.**

**(+ Disclaimer: I don't own Psych, or the characters in it. But do I really have to explain this? I know you guys are way smarter than me so... I didn't know I even needed this. Anyway, yeah. I don't own Psych. )**

* * *

Head detective Carlton Lassiter glared at the ceiling with his shoulder wrapped with bandage. He was lying on a bed in local hospital- more precisely, forced to stay in the bed. His face wrinkled with discomfort, Lassiter tried to think of any reason he needed to stay in here, the place for the weak. Why in the name of sweet lady Justice he ended up. Mostly because his nagging partner O'Hara- _Carlton, you stay bed and be nice to the nurses. They are just trying to help, and we are in a place full of tranquilizer which I'm willing to use_- and Chief Vick- _Detective Lassiter, listen to your partner!_- And of course, there was a big hole through his right shoulder made by a bullet, a bullet shot from the suspect's gun. He was so close to catching that punk. The punk he almost got without any help of the most annoying human being, nope, any form of existence throughout all space and time- Shawn Spencer. That guy had been on Lassiter's nerve for years, shoving it on his face that fake psychic shenanigan was better than solid cop works in catching criminals… But this time, the detective finally got a score. He won fair and square, beat the crap out of that snarky bastard and tracked down the killer! Well, the killer got run off but technically, Lassiter won and Spencer lost. So to enjoy his victory, Carlton was about to chase down the suspect. But his partner and the boss thought he needed to get rest which he didn't need.

"Damnit, O'Hara." He muttered under his breath. She even took his gun away from him- _This is all for your own good, Carlton. We'll take this from here. You should get some rest_- Although he sneaked his spare one under his pillow. You can't be too careful.

"Lassie!" Suddenly a very familiar annoyance hit his brain. A guy who called himself a psychic, a glib, flaky overindulgent adolescent who spends way too much time with his best friend. Shawn Spencer. Lassiter already could feel headache poking him.

"Lassie! Detective Lassiter! Lassieface! Lassiepants!" Apparently Shawn couldn't divine his room with his so-called gift or couldn't read the nametag on the door. And Lassiter hoped he could stay undetected. The last thing he wanted was Spencer hobbling around his room making no sense at all.

"Detective Dipstick! Carlton? _Binky?!_" Now Shawn sounded even desperate.

"Spencer, for God's sake shut your pineapple hole!" That shouting back immediately stopped the psychic. And he could hear the loud, almost stumbling sounds of Shawn scrambling his way to Lassiter's room. "Crap." He cursed under his breath.

The door was dramatically swung open and Shawn Spencer rushed through the door, shouting "Lassie! You ok-"

"I'm fine, Spencer." Lassiter cut the words glaring at Shawn. "And before you start yammering about your snack, hair, movie references and vision or any other topic you might bring up to the table, I am 100% sure I'm not interested." Obviously he was venting his frustration on the kid. But that's what they do. Shawn mocked him and he shouted at Shawn. That's how everything worked between the two. So the detective assumed Shawn is going to ignore him and go all 'Spencer' on him.

But unlike his expectation, Shawn said nothing. The childish, somewhat mischievous voice before yelling out various nickname of Lassiter was gone. He just stood there with heavy breath, just with a concerned look. It oddly resembled some photo of puppy face Lassiter had seen from the many mails that Shawn sent- He really shouldn't have given his email to Spencer- And it was awkward that Shawn Spencer, the most talkative man he had ever met, had gone silent.

And that gave him a frown. It was weird. And wrong. _He didn't like it._

"What?" He snapped trying to hide the almost visible awkwardness in the air. "If you've got nothing to say, just be gone already." And there was still no respond. "Why are you in here in the first place? Where's Guster? Did he finally realize you two are not in the Neverland?" Realizing the absence of another familiar manchild who seemingly much mature than the psychic, Lassiter looked around the room and glanced over the door. But there was no other visitor. Just Shawn.

While his attention was occupied, Shawn suddenly fell down on the head detective. At first Lassiter thought he fainted from running- He seriously lacked the exercise compare to the amount of snack he consumes, maybe a heart failure?- But soon, Lassiter found Shawn cling on to his waist hugging him tightly, Shawn's head buried to his chest. And for a moment his brain just stopped functioning from sudden invasion of personal space. All he could think of, all he could feel was hotness and sweatiness of the head. He could feel it over his clothes. And the scent. A faint scent of pineapple- Too shocked, Lassiter was unable to point out the fact that Shawn was using pineapple scented hair product- mixed with salty smell of sweat.

"Thank God…" Words of relief slipped out between the psychic's lips. He must have run all the way down to the hospital without Guster's ridiculous blue car.

And that little point, that someone made the way to the hospital worrying about him, gave a little shake to Lassiter. Somewhat warm, cozy but at the same time embarrassing and uncomfortable feeling filled his guts. And from the bottom of his heart, that feeling traveled all the way up to Lassiter's lips, twitching them to make a tiny smile. It somewhat messed up his brain too. _Maybe a friendly patting in the head won't hurt_, he thought for a moment there slightly shifting his left side before Shawn suddenly looked up with a grin.

"Are you smiling, Lassieface?" The usual childlike tone was back again, like everything was just an act to see the reaction of Lassiter right now; mixed up looking of half-smile and half shock with his left hand lifted toward Shawn. "Were you trying to hug me back?" And Lassiter could swear that Shawn was psych as always.

Aborting the 'friendly patting' plan, the detective smacked Shawn in the head. "Get off of me, Spencer."

"Oh, come on. You were about to hug me back. Don't be Adam Scott in _Step Brothers_. Bring it in, Lassie. I'm all yours." Ignoring the smacking Shawn tightened the hug.

"What part of 'get off of me' you can possibly misinterpret? Get as far away as possible from me and then stay there forever."

"Too late. You already let me in. I'm like P!nk's songs. Once I'm in, I'm in forever."

"I. Never. Let. You. In."

"Binky, you are wrong in all the wrong ways."

And Lassiter heard something inside him, probably something that the others called rationality, snapped like a string trigger of booby-trap and he burst into irritation. "Spencer! Get out! Now!" He pushed away Shawn ignoring the pain on his shoulder. But the hyperactive psychic didn't seem to care.

"I made you smile and you almost hugged me back!" He sang skipping around the room causing massive annoyance to the wounded man.

"No, I didn't and get the fuck out!" Obviously Lassiter was blushing. He grabbed the pillow and threw it. But Shawn dodged it- To tell the truth, it was a bit impressive how that guy could react so quickly- and even put up on a smirk.

"I made grumpyface Lassiepants smile! A little victory dance for me." And he did dance around the room.

"Out!" Unable to stand the sight of the smaller man dancing happily, Lassiter grabbed and pull out the gun he stashed, pointing it at the psychic.

Shawn flinched and scrambled out, but soon his face came back with a smile, keep singing. "Lassie smiled!"

"Shut up, Spencer!" shouted Lassiter threateningly, unlocking the safety. He seriously contemplated whether he could hit Spencer in the arm or leg. _50 to 50_, he thought.

But the next sentence came out from Shawn's mouth was strong enough to stop the head detective. "Thanks Lassie. Thanks for being not dead." He gave the detective with a gun a smile. It was a genuine smile, and made Lassiter blush even more.

"Nuuuurse!" Lassiter shouted after a few moment of awkward silence, quickly lock the safety of the gun and hiding it behind him.

"Whoa, smart move, Lassie!" Feigning a surprised look, Shawn waved before he ran away. "I'll come visit you later! Bye!" Then he skipped away, really skipping like a kid with cotton candy or ice cream.

"…Moron." Lassiter muttered quietly as the nurse ran to the room. Too annoyed to interact with any kind of human being, he just waved her away. He regretted it later though, his pillow lying on the floor far from his bed.


	2. Attack Visit 1

**A/N: So. Yeah. Smut. I should put warning? Okay, this is a warning. You've been warned. Don't want lousy man/man semi-action, don't scroll down. If not, well... scroll down?**

* * *

Later that night, after he got back his pillow with the assist of O'Hara, Lassiter glared at the ceiling again in the dark room even more annoyed than the afternoon. Invasion of personal space of so-called psychic detective bugged him to the whole new level. Not to mention it was inappropriate, it was rude. _Hugging people without consent should be illegal_, Lassiter thought idly. He felt dizzy and a bit disoriented. Probably because of the painkiller that O'Hara gave him. He didn't want to rely on the drug, and he resisted. But turned out it's a lot harder than he thought to beat his partner with one hand. And she took away his spare gun too. As his last dignity he could keep his clothes instead of the patients robe. But that didn't change the fact that Carlton Lassiter was unarmed, completely vulnerable. He hated being vulnerable. "Damnit, O'Hara…" He muttered feeling _woozy_. _Woozy, never use that word_, he made a small note inside his mind.

With his system malfunctioning from the drug, it took him a while to realize there was someone in his room. "What the-" He flinched as he found someone sitting on the left side of the bed.

It was Spencer.

"Hey, Lassieface." Shawn smiled widely slowly waving his body back and forth like he was excited.

Lassiter narrowed his eyes glaring pointedly at Shawn. "_You._" He pointed his finger at the psychic who was making an innocent smile. That made him weirdly angry. "I'm gonna _kill_ you."

"Okay, easy there, cowboy." With a chuckle, Shawn grabbed something from the floor and placed it on Lassiter's lap. "I just dropped by to give you this."

It was a basket full of snacks; pineapples, Snyder's of Hanover, Skittles… the favorites of Shawn. Lassiter stared down at the basket. _What the heck is going on?_ "Are you trying to poison me?" He asked turning his eyes to the visitor. That seemed like the only logical explanation- at least to Carlton.

"Tsk, come on, son. You know I'd plan something better than that if I wanted to kill you."

"Like what?" _Did he just 'come on, son'-ed me?_

"Slowly poison your coffee over years and years till your heart stops?"

"I knew someone tempered my coffee!" Lassiter tried to get up but his body refused to move. He looked up Shawn with wide eyes. "You _already_ poisoned me! You son of a bitch, I'm gonna kill you!" He reached out his hands to choke the smirking psychic. And before Shawn gets away, Lassiter snatched the collar and pulled him down. Now that he had the culprit in his hands, he needed to report it. "O'Haraaaaaa!" He yelled out.

"Lassie!" Shawn whispered quickly. "Lassie, you're making a scene and not a good one. It's horrible and loud, like every _Long Duck Dong_ scene!"

"What did you just call me?" snarled Lassiter shooting glare at his captive. Then he started to shake Shawn back and forth, fast. "Say that again!"

"Ronald Reagan? Clint Eastwood?!"

"Spencer, I'm gonna kill you!"

"I know you would in several years after I accidentally kill Gus at the movie night! But not tonight!"

"How the hell did you get that information?!"

"Because I'm a _psychic!_" Shawn did his 'psychic' pose with his finger.

And that pushed Lassiter's button. He had enough with the fake psychic shenanigan. He had enough with Shawn Spencer. With his head lacking the rationality again thanks to Shawn, Lassiter shouted out top of his lung to call the backup. "Nuuuuuuuuur-"

But he couldn't finish the word.

Shawn Spencer, the guy who he hated the most, more than he hated the criminal scumbags, was on his lips.

Shawn was probably trying to stop the detective, high from the drug and yelling out. And that had the prompt effect. Lassiter just stopped breathing. Then the questions started to pop up from the corner of his stupefied brain- _Is this kissing? Is Spencer kissing me? Am I kissing Spencer? Am I kissing a guy? Wait, is Spencer a guy? No, he's just an overgrown baby. So, is this a kiss?_- And Lassiter was unable to process all of them. There was no way he could have processed it even if he wasn't on painkiller. So he just sat there stiffed, feeling other man's tongue inside his mouth.

Actually it wasn't that bad. It was just like kissing a woman, instead it was a bit more prickling because of the beard and mustache- Lassiter thought Spencer had a bit too much of facial hairs lately. Now that he _felt_ it, Spencer did have too much facial hair- But it was a kiss. A good one, probably. Good enough to stop Lassiter from yelling out the nurses and kick out Spencer. And with that thought, his tongue reacted involuntarily moving along with the psychic's. His hands still holding Spencer on the collar, he pulled the younger man closer. And weirdly enough, Shawn tasted like a pineapple smoothie. Shawn shifted himself to get in a comfortable position to kiss Lassiter. He climbed up to the bed kneeing over the detective. In process there was a brief break of their tongues, but soon they both attacked each other's lips kissing passionately. Shawn reached out his hand to the back of Lassiter and propped himself to the headboard. And he kissed Lassiter deeply, exploring the new aspect of Lassiter. He seemed like enjoying this far too much. And there was a moan.

Lassiter broke the connection and backed away, making a thin gap between their lips. "Did you just-" His question was quick and short, cut by heavy breathing.

"Yeah, I think I-" The answer was too.

"God, just stop talking." Frowning, Lassiter put his lips on Shawn's and buried himself to the pleasure of kissing his archenemy. To tell the truth, he was surprised, no, _astounded_ by the psychic's kissing technique. Shawn Spencer was a good crime solver as much as he hated to admit it, but he never expected that man to be a good kisser.

The more make out session progressed, the more they lowered their body down to the bed. At the end Shawn placed his hands on the pillow staying up on the top and Lassiter looked up at him from the bottom. It was weird that the smaller and definitely less strong Shawn was on the lead on this. But Lassiter was far too distracted to concentrate on that matter. And the tiny thought of his was long gone by the time Shawn lowered his lips and moved to the older man's neck down to the chest. His other hand moved faster though. It quickly followed the line from waist to thigh, to the deep inside Lassiter's crouch. With a quick move of his hand, Shawn reached inside the pants. Lassiter jerked with the touch. His dick was already hard and it was sensitive. And with some stroke of it he couldn't help but close his eyes and let out a moan. Chuckling, Shawn made his way to the South and took out now fully hard cock. Then without hesitation, he swallowed it fully down to his throat. He didn't even cough which was weird. But Lassiter didn't and couldn't care. He needed to hold on to something, feeling too much of pleasure surging through his blood. Shawn was sucking and licking his cock like it was a Popsicle. And for a moment there he thought it would be okay as long as Shawn bobbing his mouth around it. Faster and harder every second, the psychic didn't show any intention to stop. Soon Lassiter reached the point where he couldn't hold, keep this pleasure from the end.

"Spencer-" He whispered gulping, his hands grasping on to the side of his bed. "Could you slow-"

With a clear pop, Shawn looked up with a devilish grin. _That doesn't seem like he's going to slow down_, the detective thought idly, panting from his heart pumping blood too fast to his whole body. "Sorry, Lassie. It's time to go."

Of course, as he expected, the psychic quickly went back to blow job and sucked the head of his cock. Groaning, Lassiter gave in to the pressure on his groin and spine, and let the pleasure surge through his body. He came right into Spencer's mouth and fell down feebly on his pillow.

* * *

Then Carlton woke up, still in the hospital bed, sweating like he just finished a marathon, his boxer wet from the obvious reason, but alone.

_What the fuck just happened?_ he asked to himself even though he knew the exact answer.

What he just had, it should be classified as a nightmare, but also a wet dream.

He had a dream about a guy. And worst of all, it was Shawn Spencer.


	3. Attack Visit 2

**A/N: Yay I got followers! I'm so psyched! And thank you for review! I've never thought someone would comment on this. Yeah, I'm a dork and I'm writing Shassie fanfic. **

**Aaaaaanyway, sorry if Jules is too bossy and mother-y in this fic. But that's how I think about Jules. She's probably the sanest person on the gang (personally it goes Shawn, Lassie, Gus, Jules, Henry, Chief Vick) and I think of her as Lassie's younger sister who's way mature than him, so... :-/**

* * *

After 33 minutes of introspection, self-justification and… well, trying to ignore sticky and wet feeling inside his boxer, Lassiter concluded that he _did_ have a wet dream. It was a fact. He couldn't deny it. But it would cost, probably his sanity and reason to admit that he had a wet dream about Shawn.

_So what? Maybe I am sexually frustrated. It's been a while since I've been with a woman. Yeah, that's why I had a weird dream. It's just a coincidence that Spencer was there. It's nothing to do with him really. Doesn't mean I'm attracted to him._ Carlton kept told himself shaking away the other opinions inside his mind. _Spencer means the opposite of attraction. He is just a baby with a stupid psychic agency. His hair is always messy, his eyes are like a pair of brown-colored M&M… he has poopy eyes, yes, poopy eyes. And he is filthy, like a puppy with a poopy puppy eyes… A puppy… _Lassiter imagined Shawn as a puppy. Weirdly that was somewhat adorable…

_No, stop, Carlton! That is not what you're establishing here. He is not cute. He is not attractive with his hands and hair and eyes, everything. He is annoying, fucking annoying and stupid. And he is a male. Right, Spencer is a guy. I'm not attracted to guy. Not at all! Maybe Clint Eastwood, but not Shawn Spencer… Spencer with a Midwest cowboy hat, boots… Colt revolver holster… belt… No! It's not sexy!_

"Damnit, Spencer! You ruined Clint Eastwood for me!" Lassiter cursed punching his bedside.

Juliet popped her head into the room with a frown. "Carlton?" She walked in her hands with a box of donuts and a coffee holder with two cups. "Is everything okay? Did Shawn do something on you again?"

"No one did me, especially not Spencer!" shouted Lassiter started to blush again.

Juliet narrowed her eyes at him and slowly approached to the bed. "Are you still high from painkiller?" Then she waved her hand in front of Lassiter checking if he was okay.

"I'm not high. I'm fine." He muttered shoving away his partner's hand. "Why are you here?"

"I came by to check on you."

Lassiter frowned with confusion. "And?"

"That's it. I just dropped by to see how you're doing." Juliet shrugged putting the donuts and coffee on the near table.

"_Why?_" Again, asked Lassiter eyeing her. It's not like he was dying from a cancer. There was no need to see if he was alive or not.

"Because, Carlton, that's what humans do. People worry about others when they got hurt." Juliet explained kindly like Carlton couldn't understand the basic of human interaction. To be fair to her, he sometimes did. "I'm worried, chief is concerned. Even Gus and Shawn are worried too." Then she moved over to his bed, fluffed the pillow. "I heard Shawn was here yesterday?"

Lassiter turned his head away, muttering under his breath. "Yeah. That moron has no respect of personal space, or has no brain."

"Now, don't be too harsh on him." She scolded the grumpy partner with motherly tone. "He really cares for you."

"Spencer is a nothing but a flaky crook." Carlton grumbled a reply. "He is like an overeating immature disease. We should get rid of him from the department."

Satisfied with her fluffing, Juliet simply shrugged with his complaint. Every time Shawn got a job from the chief, the head detective complained about the outside 'specialist'- _'Spencer is good for nothing', 'What the hell is wrong with that idiot?' 'I hate Spencer. I really do.' 'Can you bake me a cake with a knife if I can't get away from killing - I mean, after I was framed for the murder of Spencer?' 'Fucking pineapple juice everywhere!'_- So she could say she was pretty much used to it.

"I don't know about Shawn's psychic ability, but he does have something on catching details. You can't say he's not helping." She commented calmly taking out cups from the coffee holder and turned to Carlton. "Anyway, he has a good intention. So be nice to him."

"No, he is not. He is an evil son of a bitch."

Juliet gave him a 'you're acting like a child, Carlton' look with a silence, handing him the coffee.

"Just shut it, O'Hara." He shot a glare at the partner before taking the cup.

"Fine." She shook her head with a sigh. It seemed like Carlton won the argument this time. "Anything you need?"

Lassiter shook his head. "Nope."

"Okay then. I'll check on you later." With a nod Juliet walked up to the door. "Don't try to sneak out the hospital. I can and will track you down with a para-gun and you know it." She turned around and pointed him threateningly.

Lassiter scoffed although he knew that was true. Then he called her back. "Wait, O'Hara!"

She came back with her head popped into the room again. "Yes?"

"I'd like my weapons back."

"No." Her answer was quick as a bullet.

"Damnit, O'Hara! I'm unarmed here!" Carlton yelled out which somewhat sounded like a whining. "That's so not fair!"

"Anything else than gun?" She simply ignored his complain.

"Fine. Then… I need some clothes." He mumbled feeling embarrassed to ask it. His boxer and probably the pants were wet, and it kept reminded him of the dream.

"Clothes, I can do that." She gave him a nod. "I'll drop it later."

"Thanks, O'Hara."

"Don't sweat."

And Carlton hoped he wouldn't have to sweat again too.

The rest of morning went slowly. Carlton Lassiter was a very tidy person who used his time efficiently as possible. It was hard for him to waste time sitting around in a hospital bed. And the image from the dream last night wasn't helping at all. Even though he got rid of the boxer throwing it down the toilet- _God bless a flush toilet a good measure to remove a foul evidence_- the mental fragments of Spencer kissing him didn't go away that easily. He still remembered the sensation, scent and touch, tension, all the heat and passion as if it was a real. And it wasn't his fault that the images gave him a very uncomfortable, heavy feeling down his crouch. It was hot. Not because it was Shawn, but it was hot.

Lassiter tried to distract himself thinking about the case, organize it with drawing diagram. But he failed after few minutes later realizing he was not a lefty. He made an attempt to do it without visual aids, but before he even knew it his mind drifted back to the moment in the dream, kissing Spencer again and again.

_Keep yourself together, head detective. You are not turned on by image of kissing Spencer. You are turned on because kissing is hot, not Spencer. Spencer is not hot. He is like a squirrel. Pineapple eating squirrel. With a black squirrel friend. Yes. Kill the squirrel. Choke him… on top of him and-_

And with his train of thoughts somehow leaded from killing rodents to hot sweaty sex with the psychic of SBPD, Lassiter just gave up on thinking and buried himself on the pillow. Although he soon realized falling asleep was not a good idea for now and sprung up from the drowsiness, shaking his head quickly.

This could be his rock bottom; lost a suspect, got a shot in the shoulder, had a dream about Spencer giving him a blowjob… and now with nothing on his hands to distract him, kept thinking about Spencer, no, the wet dream over and over again. Well, compare to the night he got divorced, today was a nice happy ride of merry-go-round. But it was on the rock bottom in an objective view. He had no idea how he had gotten to this point. _Too horny, I'm turned on by Spencer- wait, nope, turned on by a stupid dream. Maybe I need a therapy or support group for this._ He thought gloomily.

* * *

It was twenty past four when Lassiter woke up. He should have drowsed off trying to get off the dream stained his mind. Blinking slowly still in the stage of half-sleeping, Lassiter checked his pants with his eyes closed. It was clean. _Thank God_, he thought. And he immediately got depressed from the fact that he just relieved because he didn't shoot a load from a dream. But before the detective let out a frustrated sigh, he felt something weird on his face. A finger was poking him in the cheek with a slow rhythm. Lassiter opened his eyes and the last person he wanted to see popped up from the corner of his sight with a grin.

"Morning, Lassie!" Shawn greeted with his teeth shining from a smile still poking Lassiter in the cheek.

"Goddamnit, Spencer! Get out of my face!" Annoyance quickly filling his head, Lassiter shoved the psychic away. And he wanted to fumigate his hand and cheek after touching or touched by Shawn.

"It's twenty past four, Shawn. That's too late for morning even for you." Another annoying voice came from the door. Burton Guster was sitting on a chair giving Shawn a look.

Of course, Shawn didn't give a damn about the comment. "Jules! Lassie is alive! He woke up!"

"Hey, Lassie. How's your shoulder?" Gus gave a normal and proper greeting while his best friend still poking Lassiter in the cheek.

"My shoulder is okay. Thank you for asking, Guste- Stop poking me, Spencer!" Lassiter stopped still realizing that sounded bit weird. "I mean- stop touching me- stop- Stop breathing!" Shawn started to giggle and Gus raised a brow on him. And Lassiter? He panicked blushing slightly from the awkward atmosphere.

Thanks to the sweet lady Justice, his partner walked in the room and saved Lassiter from exploding with embarrassment. "Shawn! I told you not to wake him up!" She scolded the manchild sitting near the bed with an innocent smile.

"I didn't wake him up. I gave him a touch of life with my magic finger. I'm like _Ned the Piemaker_ but much cooler 'cause Lassie won't drop dead if I touch him again. Right, Lassiepants?" Shawn poked the detective in the cheek again.

"Spencer, I will cut off your finger." Lassiter snarled snatching the annoying finger and twisting it.

"Gus!" Weirdly, Shawn yelled out his best friend in pain.

"You had it coming, Shawn." And Guster got his revenge by ignoring the call for help.

"Carlton, stop it." Juliet quickly walked up to the bed and separated the two.

"Yeah, Carlton, stop it." Shawn mocked.

"But he started it!" Lassiter looked up with a betrayed look while Shawn was grinning.

Sighing, Juliet covered her eyes with hand frustrated. "God, I'm not even engaged and I have three kids..." She murmured quickly to herself and turned to Shawn. "Shawn, go to the corner." She pointed the side of the room till the overgrown 7 years old move to the corner muttering something like "Man, this is so not fair."

Now that the peace had been reestablished, Lassiter calmed down and turned to his partner. "What are these buffoons doing here?"

Juliet pointed a duffle bag on the floor. "They helped me packing your bag, Carlton."

"Yeah, we helped her packing your bag, Carlton." Shawn mocked again facing the wall from the corner.

"Don't make me go there, Shawn!" Juliet pointed him threateningly. And somehow that finger seemed more dangerous than her gunpoint. "Anyway, I thought it'd be weird if I go through your drawer so…"

Lassiter grabbed the bag and pulled it up to his knees. And the halfway through unzipping it, he realized something and looked up with a disgusted look. "You let these crowns to touch my clothes?!"

"Hey, for the record we used tongs. We didn't want to touch your pants either." Gus commented.

"You know that's right." said Shawn still facing back from the detectives. But somehow Lassiter knew that Shawn was smirking from his voice. "Besides, we brought a present, Lassie."

Lassiter couldn't help but raise a brow in question. "I swear to God, if you brought another snowglobe-" He was still holding a grudge from Shawn's last Christmas present. Lassiter shot the evil glob and threw out in the trash immediately. Snowglobes were on his list of hatred, probably down to the name of Shawn Spencer and other criminals he had arrested.

Shawn ran out the room half-singing. "Wait for iiiiiiiiit-"

Then he came back with a ridiculously big basket full of all kinds of snacks and fruits, and oddly, a pink teddy bear. A bright smile of pure excitement and glee all over his face, Shawn placed the basket on the bed- It shook the entire bed-

Lassiter stared at the basket dumbfounded. Not only it was enormous, but also reminded him about the dream. His face colored with embarrassing red, mouth slightly fell open.

"Now Lassie," Shawn picked up and waved the pink teddy bear in front of the detective. "This is Lassie bear. Be nice to him. He's lonely and grumpy." He said somewhat patronizingly.

"Uh, Shawn? His name is Jack. And there's a name tag on him." Gus pointed out.

Shawn pouted. "He is Lassie bear. Suck it, Gus."

"You suck it."

"_You_ suck it!" The two's argument probably one of the most stupid things Carlton ever heard, well, at least for this month.

"Enouuuuugh." Lassiter stopped the idiocy with a growl. "Spencer, go play with your infant pink doll somewhere else."

Shawn gasped air feigning a shock and covered the ears of the doll. "Don't listen to him, Lassie bear. He is just mean 'cause he has an awful hair."

"Anywho," Juliet quickly changed the subject before her partner attempt to throw the pillow at Shawn and his bear. "the doctor want you to stay here for few more days. So at least try to get a rest. Also we got a progress on our suspect Mark Garrison. We found his car on abandoned on the local grocery store, the cashier ided him and we got a time from the security footage so we're getting close."

Santa Barbara police was on to the case for few weeks. Harry Lopez, a head of a major law firm and a well-known antique clock enthusiast, was poisoned by his partner Mark Garrison over a business problem. Garrison framed it on the victim's secretary who was having an affair with him. But Lassiter found the financial crisis of the firm and Garrison personally and collected the pieces- that Garrison needed a fortune because of his gamble depts. And when Lassiter confronted him, he shot him in the shoulder.

"Why he's still in the town?" asked the detective removing the basket from the bed. He saw Shawn pouting but he simply ignored it. "He should be running his murderer ass off from us and his creditor."

"We're working on that, so no worries."

Lassiter nodded slowly. He wanted to be in the case. But Chief Vick made it clear that he needed to get a rest till his wound gets better. _Stupid human skin. Why can't they be bulletproof? _he thought idly.

"Jules, where was that grocery store again?" asked Shawn grabbing the basket and pulling it to himself. _Isn't that supposed to be my gift?_ Carlton shot a glare at him but the psychic seemed to focus on having snacks for now.

"The one on San Miguel Avenue. Why?"

"No reason." Shawn shrugged taking a handful of lollipops from the basket. Then he signed Gus with their language that no one could understand except the two. The detectives eyed their consultants having a seemingly argument with the signs. And as always, it ended up Gus clicking his tongue irritated and Shawn grinning triumphantly tilting up his chin. "I'm sorry detective, and Lassie. My metaphysical sense is guiding me right now. We should get going."

At first, detective Lassiter was glad that dorks were leaving- He was not sure he could take Shawn licking and sucking lollipop right now- But soon he realizes something. "Wait, did Chief hire them for the case?"

"Well, since you're in a hospital…" Juliet slurred the end of her sentence.

"Oh, don't worry, Lassie. We will catch the bad guy for you." Chuckling, Shawn fiddled his fingers on the lollipop trying to unwrap the candy. It took him a while to get his tongue on the sweet. "Come on, Jose Josephine! Let's go get some criminal!" Then he bolted out.

"See you later, Jules. We'll let you know if we find something. And Lassie, hope you get better soon." Gus followed his friend waving at the detectives.

With a beeping sound from her phone, Juliet turned to her partner with a smile. "Well, I'm off to the department too. Seems like we've got another lead."

"Okay, O'Hara. Keep me posted." He nodded shortly.

"Bye, Carlton." Then she took off.

Lassiter leaned back on his bed feeling exhausted. He barely did anything today, but doing nothing was way harder than he thought. And the ebony and ivory from Psych, it took a lot to just stand their existence. Especially Shawn Spencer… _with a lolli- No, stop, Carlton! You're falling for the trap again! Keep yourself together for God's sake! Bad Carlton! _He scowled himself in his mind.

He needed a distraction. He should have asked O'Hara to get him some newspaper. _Wait, there's television on this room. Yes, news. Or movie._ Lassiter looked around and spotted the remote. But when he pressed button hoping there would be some decent movie or at least news channel, TV refused to turn on and stared at him with black, blank screen. "Damnit!" He threw away the remote irritated.

Sighing, Lassiter decided to change. It bothered him down to the core of his being that Spencer and Guster went into his place and went through his drawers. _I need a new drawer…_ he thought idly. Anyway, he unzipped the bag and took out a clean boxer and a sweat pants. He got himself up and slowly unbuckled his pants. It took him a while to process all the way down with one hand. It was harder than he thought. After he removed the dirty pants, he took the boxer and tried to put his leg in it. Again, it was harder than he thought to change with one hand. Finally, he was able to put his left leg in the underwear. But as he tried to do the same with the right leg, he lost his balance and fell back on his back on the bed. "Crap." Lassiter cursed quietly still trying to put on the boxer.

But he froze like a stone when Shawn walked back at the worst timing possible. "Lassie! I forgot to tell you-" Shawn, who also didn't expect this, froze up too.

This could go up in the list of '_Carlton Lassiter, Hall of Embarrassment_'. Lying back on a bed, his stretch legs up in the air, trying to put on a boxer with one hand which was only the halfway down, exposing his ding-dong to his archenemy Shawn Spencer.

"Sorry! Wrong room!" Spencer initiated plan 'Let's pretend like this never happened and run away from the reality.' "Nope! Not this kind of movie!" Then he closed the door immediately.

Of course, Lassiter just stayed the ceiling blankly, trying to understand what just happened and to forget it at the same time.


	4. Attack Snack

**A/N: Again, a bit smuty this time. Maybe NSFW? It means 'not safe for work' right?**

* * *

"I mean, you fell asleep during the movie, Gus! _During_ the movie!"

"Since you haven't realized it, Shawn, I'm basically paying mine and your rent and plus Psych office. I'm working my ass off. And you know I need a solid 10 hours sleep a day."

"It was _the Temple of Doom_! You _do not_ fall asleep with Indiana Jones!"

"You put me in the couch and threw me a blanket with popcorns. That's an open invitation to falling asleep."

"Man! You really don't get anything about…"

Detective Carlton Lassiter crushed a handful of colorful jelly beans between his teeth and glared at the not-so-dynamic duo's useless chatter from the distance on his desk. Time to time he eyed the map on the screen of his computer indicating the locations where Mark Garrison was spotted. But most of time, his eyes were on to the two consultants, his hands kept delivering the junk food to his mouth almost aggressively. The gift basket Shawn gave him- Of course, Guster was the one who bought the snacks, obviously, but Lassiter didn't focus on that details- seemingly held endless supplies of snacks. After he got out of hospital, he found himself consuming M&Ms, jelly beans, Snyder's and mini Snickers as known as '_Spencer foods'_. He got to admit, it was highly addictive.

Speaking of addiction, it seemed like the psychic in his dream decided to stay around for a while. Last few days at the hospital, Lassiter kept haunted by dreams about Spencer doing things and stuff on, to, in, with, below, on top of him. Sometimes vivid, sometimes in a blur, but one thing was constant- Shawn doing things and stuff that the rigid detective couldn't even speak of or think of at work. But unfortunately, and Lassiter never understand or never want to understand why, Chief Vick kept called in Psych agents for consulting. And that was a poison for the head detective, steeping through his mind, it contaminated his rational thoughts and replaced them to pent-up desires and lust.

Of course, the reality Shawn Spencer was standing in the farthest point from attraction. On scale from 1 to 10 of attractiveness, Spencer was scoring negative numbers. Hell, he wasn't even on the scale- he was _he_, a guy, a male, with a Y chromosome which sometimes Lassiter wondered if he really had one or not- _Maybe I should ask Henry later…_- But the dream Shawn Spencer, he was different. Every move he did, every dirty word he spoke, just everything about him… just, just turned him on.

Two days later after Lassiter had the first dream for a starter and (the reality) Shawn burst in while he was changing, Lassiter had a blowjob in his dream again- He flushed down the white boxer covered with cum- Then the day after that, the dream Shawn popped up with a cadet uniform. The detective didn't remember the whole story but assuming from his another boxer drowned in the toilet water, there was a blowjob.

And yesterday, he woke up from another dream. That time, they went all the way down. Lassiter was laid down on his couch; Spencer sucked and licked his full hard dick like he found the greatest snack ever. And suddenly the psychic was on top of his detective, bouncing up and down with hitting his spot again and again. Lassiter remembered he was almost dying from the orgasm he was experiencing. And (the dream) Shawn shivering slightly with the mixture of the pain in his ass and the pleasure overriding it, his face all red and sweaty moaning and panting… That turned him on in a level that he never thought he could reach. But Carlton woke up before he releases. The tip of his cock was wet from the pre-cum, but he didn't go full release.

So, it was not his fault but the dream Shawn's that Lassiter jerked off in the shower, finishing the unfinished business.

It was also not his fault that the look of Shawn on top of him flickered when he came.

Anyway, back to today when Carlton Lassiter was gazing at Shawn and chewing jelly beans. Of course, the reality Shawn and the dream Shawn were different. But still they had the same face, same silly grin and same fingers that had a hypnotic effect on the detective. Lassiter almost smacked his lips when the psychic ripped off the Snyder's bag and started to dig on the pretzels, and then sucked his fingers to clean out savoring the seasoning… In his defense, Lassiter had sticky jellies on his lips and didn't want to wipe it out with his suit sleeve. On the other hand, Shawn didn't have any problem rubbing his dirty hands on his jean. Then his hands moved up to his lame, stupid lime and white plaid shirts over the t-shirts saying '_el mio sopa encanta_' –which Lassiter couldn't even understand what does it means by 'Mine soup love' in Spanish._ Is it some kind of code?_- It seemed like Shawn found a stain on his shirts and tried to remove it. The manboy licked his fingers carelessly and rubbed them on the stain.

"Shawn, that's gross." Guster commented.

"Maybe you should suck my cool shirts."

"You suck it." It seemed like they couldn't have a normal conversation like sane people without repeating 'suck it'.

"Okay." Shawn took the advice with a simple shrug, tugged up his shirts and sucked it without warning. Ignoring his best friend frowning upon his unclean act, he grinned somewhat triumphantly with his shirts slightly sucked into his mouth. It exposed his bare skin and the waist line under the '_el mio sopa encanta_' shirts. Soon he spitted out the shirts leaving a clear mark on it. But that was enough to give a choke to the detective observing from his desk.

"Carlton, you okay?" Juliet asked with a concerned look standing in a way of Lassiter watching two knuckleheads arguing now about the psychic one's hygiene problems. "Is that one of Shawn's jelly bean? You had these instead of lunch?" Frowning, she looked over his desk full of empty bags of snack.

Lassiter quickly swiped the bags out of his desk. "… No."

"You have a piece of jelly on your mouth, head detective." She put up on a smirk which he did not like.

Again, he quickly wiped out his mouth with the sleeve, and pretended like that never happened. "No, I'm not."

"You're acting weird today."

"_You_ are acting weird!"

Juliet shook her head giving up on normal conversation with her partner. "Fine. Have you checked the file?"

"What file?" Without thinking, Lassiter glanced over her shoulder see if Spencer and Guster were still there. They were gone.

"The Lopez case? I gave you the places Garrison was spotted?" She tilted her head hanging down her blond hair. "What are you looking at?"

"No one, nothing." He quickly turned back to the conversation. "I read them up. How come we kept losing him?"

"We had no idea." Juliet sighed.

"Well, maybe you guys should ask your favorite psychic." _Something_ clung behind from Lassiter's chair and wrapped around its arms around his neck. It was Shawn suddenly popped up behind him. "Hellooo, Lassiepants" said the self-styled 'favorite psychic' with a childish showing off voice. It seemed like he decided to ignore that the little incident at the hospital, the fact that he saw what was under Lassiter's boxer. "I see you enjoying my jelly beans?"

On the other hand, that almost paralyzed Lassiter with an obvious blush. Needless to say, he could feel the other man's breath on his neck, tickling the sensitive area with warm, moist air from Spencer's lung. It was very hard to concentrate when the person who was in his sex dream clinging on his back like a shell of turtle. "Spencer, I swear to God, if you touch me again-" He had to squeeze out every ounce of anger and irritation to snarl under his breath pinching Spencer in the finger. "I will crush your finger to tiny little pieces."

"No, not my adorable and sexy but gentle fingers! That's the money maker!" Shawn screamed quickly getting off from the angry man. Lassiter turned around on his chair raising a brow on the psychic.

"You do know that Psych job is not that profitable, right?" "You don't have sexy fingers, Spencer." "Shawn, get to the point." The rest three reacted differently the different point of Shawn's words.

"My fingers are sexy like _Jessica Rabbit_ and their value is bajillion and you all know it!" Shawn pointed his unhurt fingers to the others. Of course, they all expressed their counterview with eye rolls and snorting. "And my point is- drum roll please!" There was no drum roll, just staring. "Tsk, you guys suck" The needy psychic clicked his tongue.

Shawn pretentiously lifted his hands and placed the Jessica Rabbit fingers on the each side of his head. "I got a vision that our poison murdering cop shooting suspect is a dirty rat."

"Shawn, that doesn't make any-"

"Ah, ah, ah- My gift often comes in complexity that ordinary people cannot comprehend. You need to decipher it." The psychic cut off O'Hara's words and smirked. "I'm also getting that our suspect is in somewhere dark, wet and stinky."

"Like your place?" Gus joked.

"My place is clean like a baby in a stall." Shawn said triumphantly while none of the rest three understood why he was smirking. That didn't make any sense. "And no. He can't see sky, he's covered, he's under the ground, six feet under, not the show- but sidebar, Michael C. Hall is a great actor, anyway. Our suspect is, where is our suspect, he is-"

"Blind?" "Killed?" "Underground?" The audiences replied at the same moment.

"Thank you, Jules! And the gold star goes to…" Shawn waved his fingers in the air rotating them. They stopped pointing at detective O'Hara for a second who apparently said the correct answer, then jerked back to point Shawn himself. "…me! Because _I_ divined the location of the suspect with my awesome gift."

"He is hiding underground?" Juliet asked while the other two listeners rolled their eyes. "But how?"

"Wait, O'Hara. I think I've got something." Lassiter turned around to his computer. He entered some commands into the machine, overlapping another map on the screen. The city's sewer system plan. And according to the map, there were manholes near where Garrison appeared. "Sewer. Dark, wet, stink and underground… Is that what your vision meant, Spencer? That Mark Garrison is-"

"-Mark Garrison is under the sewerage!" Shawn yelled out cutting off the detective. Then he cocked up his chin arrogantly.

"That's it! That's why he hasn't been caught! Because nobody could see him under the sewerage!" said Juliet looking into the map too.

"Well then, case closed! Now we know the killer is hiding in the sewer under the whole wide city!" Lassiter exclaimed sarcastically with a fake smile.

"Wow, you are all about clouds, aren't you? You know what you should watch? _Silver Lining Playbook_. You need to see the bright side of the life." Shawn waved his hands as if he could show the positivity in the air to the pessimistic, grumpy detective.

"Bright side doesn't solve the case, Spencer." Lassiter commented standing up from the seat. Then he scowled at the brunet before turning to his partner. "I'll go talk to the chief. See if you can find any lead on this sewerage theory."


	5. Attack Drag 1

**A/N: Hmm it took longer than I thought. In my defense I've been to my parents' and helped dad making a workhouse, so :I**

**(btw I totally forgot Woody from Psych Crazy List. Also I gave it a little thought and changed a bit. Revised viersion goes like Woody / Shawn / Lassie = Gus / Henry / Juliet / Chief Vick) ****Speaking of which, Chief Vick is in this chapter yay!**

**+) I cut the chapter 'cause it was too long... not trying to tease you guys here. Pinky swear :3**

* * *

"I said '_I_'ll go talk to the chief', Spencer. That means I, _alone_, will go talk to the chief. Do you need a translator who can talk idiot?"

"But your eyes said 'Please come with me, Shawn. I'm lonely and grumpy and scared of Chief Vick.'"

"You wish."

"Ooooh, Lassie. When you wish upon a star, anything your heart desires will come to you and your dreams come tru-"

"Do I need to give you two some private moment or should I wait till you are done?" Chief Vick was not amused by her head detective and consultant having an idle chat and one of them singing Disney soundtrack. "Oh, wait, this is _my_ office." She said sarcastically. "Get to the point or get your mouths out of my office, Detective Lassiter, Mr. Spencer."

"We have a suspicion that our suspect is hiding under the sewerage system." Lassiter explained before scowling at the grinning fool. "He could've accessed to the underground with manholes. The locations he was spotted are all near to them. It also explains why he has never seen between the locations."

The chief raised her brow at them. "_Sewerage?_" Lassiter got a bad feeling that she wasn't buying the theory. "So what you're saying is, head detective, that Mark Garrison, the one who killed the head of major law firm in Santa Barbara and shot a detective, the one the media is paying attention, is hiding under the city like a cartoon villain?" _Yep, she is not buying_, the detective swallowed a bit nervously.

"I saw it in my vision too." Shawn put his fingers on his temples with a serious face, as if it could make a difference to Vick's doubt. And that stupid _psychic_ pose needled the detective to the very dangerous level of annoyance.

"Mister Spencer, what I need is a solid, other than circumstantial proof, not your psychic visions." Chief Vick informed the psychic who seemed a bit dejected. _When he would learn that Karen Vick is not as easy as the others who buy all his crap?_ "I'll keep that in mind. But if you want to move the whole department to search our killer in the sewer, do bring evidences. Do I make myself clear?" She gave a firm, 'no evidence, no deal' looks to the both.

"Yes, ma'am." Lassiter nodded shortly. The last thing he wanted to do was irritate his boss.

"But Chief!"

The detective snatched younger man and dragged him out of office before he starts another shenanigan. Shawn tried to stand his ground but he never stood a chance to the tall man with a tie. "Let's go, Spencer. Thanks for nothing." Lassiter growled lowly.

Shawn was way stubborn than he expected. It took him 5 minutes of struggling and helps of McNab to drag the man child brunet from chief's office. In his defense, Shawn was very clingy and he couldn't use his right arm properly from the wound. Not to mention it was inappropriate, it was stupid and well… stupid. Now Lassiter stood in front of the troublemaker who was sitting in his desk pouting, with the arms crossed. Chief Vick just gave him the final warning that if he throws a tantrum ever again in her office, she can and _will_ charge obstruction of justice against him with all her power. Of course, Shawn did not appreciate that.

"Man, this is so not fair." He grumbled pursing his lips like a child. "We can totally find him down there! Maybe we should-"

"Don't even think about it." Lassiter warned glaring down at the younger man. "If you wanna go down to the sewer by yourself and find Garrison, be my guest. But unlike you, we have our principle."

"Lassie, you need to learn how to follow your guts. Maybe yoga could help."

"Why don't you learn how to keep your mouth shut?"

"Why don't you learn-"

"Boys!" Juliet cut off the two arguing again from her desk. "Shawn, listen to Carlton. We can't just go down there and search for the killer. We need at least need the possible area he'd be hiding." Then she stood up with files on her hands. "I'll go check the traffic cameras around the area he was spotted. Maybe we could find the footage of Garrison sneaking down to the manhole."

Lassiter gave her a nod. "Okay, keep me posted."

"But that would take hours!" Shawn complained.

"Then go home and make a sandwich or something! We grown-ups got works to do." snapped Lassiter shooting a glare at Shawn. He was being extra-annoying today. Or maybe Lassiter was extra-irritation-sensitive by the little man acting childish and immature at the station. Either way, Shawn was on his nerve pushing the buttons. _God, why does he have to be so impatient? I wish he just shuts up for once._ Lassiter grimaced staring at the pouting man. "And get out of my seat."

"Fine." Shawn stood up from the chair and looked right into the eyes of annoyed detective. And it somehow stunned him. A small, perky pair of hazel staring right into him… There were hints of dissatisfaction and whining in them, eyebrows angled with a frown and a little wrinkle on his nose. Lassiter didn't even realize he was gazing Shawn. All the annoyance melted away and the odd feeling, cozy and uncomfortable at the same time, surged through his guts twisting it again. Shawn said few references about sandwich, mostly gibberish, but the words didn't come into the detective's mind. They just slipped away like sands in a hand.

"What? I said I'm going home, Lassie. No need to stare me like you're about to cook and eat me up." Shawn's voice woke Lassiter from a semi-coma.

"I am not staring at you, Spencer. Just go home." grumbled Lassiter. _What the fuck just happened? Carlton Lassiter, you stop staring at the idiot. Stop it. Stop thinking about the dream. This is not the time. It's never the time. I forbid you from thinking about the dream._ He shook off and came back to the normal self. At least he thought he did.

"You have something on your mind, don't you?" A wide grin appeared on the brunet's face. "Hey, let me read your palm." With a quick move, Shawn snatched Lassiter's hand and looked into it closely.

Flushing with another weird feeling in his guts, Lassiter quickly drew back his hand from the fake psychic- He has to be a fake- "Keep your meat hooks off of me!"

"Wow, your hand is really big. Also looks so old." Shawn commented and seized the other hand, the wounded one. His eyes were flashing with the curiosity. "Lassie, your hands are the window of your old grumpy soul. I say you use some hand cream or moisturizer."

"It's the 'eyes'. Your eyes are the window of your soul." The old grumpy soul corrected. "And I don't believe in creams." _Beside, who need lotion on their hands? Probably Spencer and Guster, the two chipmunks._

"I've heard it both ways." Shawn cocked up his chin proudly.

"No, you have no- _wait_." Lassiter realized his hand was still in grasp of the sly, distracting evil son of a bitch. He pulled his hand back scowling at Shawn. Then he rubbed it on his pants like he got dirt on it. "Stop touching me, Spencer. In fact, _never_ touch me again. Ever heard of personal space? Do I need to call a tutor to teach you that?"

"Then how could I read your palm? Oh, come on! It won't take a minute! I promise." Chuckling, the psychic-fortuneteller took his hand and pulled it closer again. This time Shawn narrowed his eyes seemingly focusing, and slowly stroked the palm with both his thumbs.

That almost gave Lassiter a chill. It was warm, soft, kind of tickling and oddly arousing. He wasn't sure Shawn knows how to read a palm, but _hell_, it turned him on. It had been too long he couldn't even remember the last time he felt so… _horny_. The rational, realistic part of his brain which was the dominant function of his mind, seemed like it decided to take a vacation. Maybe some town called 'I'm too desperate I'm turned on by palm stroking' in 'too horny' nation. Actually, the fact that his mind came up with those ridiculous names meant that Carlton Lassiter was not himself. And it was all because of this _schmuck_. Of all people, his mind picked this one. Childish, immature, overconfident, constantly lying son of a bitch who annoyed him the most- Shawn Spencer was the one who turning him on.

"Spencer, stop." Lassiter squeezed out his voice now in bright red. He wished he seemed like flushing from annoyance not an embarrassment.

And of course, Shawn didn't give a damn. He just kept read the palm with a smirk along with him. "Don't be Elizabeth Perkins in _Big_. You know you want to bounce with me on the trampoline."

"Spencer, STOP TOUCHING ME!" The detective finally burst out. He needed to, _this_ needed to stop. Shawn kept invading his personal space and giving him strange feelings. The whole sex dreams and arousal were caused because Shawn had no notion of personal space. And he never had asked for it. He had never wanted this.

"Uh… Lassie?" Shawn called out the huffing detective.

"What!" Lassiter snapped.

"Not that I mind, but people are watching." Shawn crooked his lips awkwardly tilting toward the crowds. It took about few seconds for Lassiter to realize that he was far too loud and practically everyone in the station was looking at him and the psychic. With Shawn holding Lassiter in the hand and him yelling at Shawn. It was a weird scene but also familiar one to the station. The psychic consultant getting under their head detective's skin was like an everyday routine for the others. However, today's Lassiter was in bright red like a carrot. And now Juliet was poking her head out from the staircase to see if everything's okay with the two. His voice was that loud. The detective quickly calculated the situation, what would happen if O'Hara comes up and asks what's going on… _'What's going on here?' 'Lassie wants me to stop touch him.' 'It is not what it sounds like, O'Hara.' 'What do you mean, it's not what it sounds like?' 'I- that's not-' 'Detective Lassiter, are you having a stroke?' 'Carlton!' And one thing lets to another, he got laid off because Spencer sues him and he would end up as a private detective or in the worst, bounty hunter._

_Nope, that's not gonna happen. I'd rather sing and dance in the station fountain._

"Spencer, may I have a word with you?" said Lassiter grabbing Shawn in the nape and dragging him to the storage closet.

"But I gotta-"

"I'm not asking." He snapped and swung opened the door, then threw the smaller man in. Shawn stumbled but managed not to fall down. With an angry scowl on his face, Lassiter followed in closing the door behind. The sound of escape route being blocked gave the psychic a shriek. Now his stupid grin and smirkiness was gone. That satisfied Lassiter.

"Okay, before you murder me then make a stew out of me- which by the way would be the best stew you've ever had, can I ask for my last-"

"No." Lassiter stepped forward glaring at his captive.

"But-" Shawn backed away involuntarily.

"No." He cut off cornering the brunet to the end of the wall. He slowly started to feel like the normal self was coming back to him. Scaring Spencer was quite an entertainment.

"Uh… you mad, Lassieface?" Shawn asked awkwardly swallowing.

"You think so?" He growled under his breath threateningly. Hell, he was mad. Shawn Spencer was already annoying him to the point where he couldn't even stand the guy. Shawn just walked into _his_ station dancing around with his 'psychic' ability and solved _his_ cases, doing _his_ job that he achieved through years of dedication. No one can just take it away from him without effort. But that wasn't enough for Spencer. _No, not at all._ Now the perky, flirty little bastard was invading his dreams and corrupting his mind. Lassiter was distracted and confused. He had no idea what was happening to him and why he had to feel this way exactly. But one thing was sure. It was all because of Spencer.

_Shawn Spencer was ruining his life._

"If you just let me read your aura…" Shawn suggested, a visible attempt to distract the detective.

_He's still doing it._ Lassiter gritted his teeth. _Doing stupid shenanigan to distract me and get away._ _Well, he's not getting away this time. _The detective seized him by the collar and easily pushed him up in the wall. "You listen to me, bastard." He whispered quietly facing the terrified man. There was a flame in his icy blue eyes fueled by his anger and resentment. "I don't like physical contacts. I don't like it especially when _you_ touch me, Spencer. You annoy me for God's sake and I hate you. I do hate you. So do not ever touch me, ever again. _Got it?_"

Shawn stared at the furious man blankly without words while the detective was huffing in anger. Then the question suddenly popped out between his lips. "Why now?"

"What?" Lassiter asked back, dumbfounded with the random question.

"Why are you suddenly all angry and touchy about me touching you?" The psychic stared him right in the eyes. The same hazel eyes that gave him a chill were now scrutinizing him. "All these years, you've never been this angry because I touched your hair, face, ears, shoulders, arms and practically everywhere! Why are you suddenly reacting like that?"

Lassiter froze up. "You-" His anger was getting in the way of clear thoughts.

"I'm sensing something here. Something happened to you. Not the gunshot. Not the outside but inside you." Shawn was slowly gaining power in this conversation. His eyes were sharp. His tone was still playful and perky as the usual, but the words he was saying had weird power over Lassiter. Shawn lifted up his fingers and placed them in his temple. "You've been acting weird all week. That's because you're going through very emotional phase, something big, something unusual… but not visible. You are pent-up, confused and sensitive… Sensitive around me…"

Shawn rolled his eyes, pouted then rotated his fingers on the temple. And then he finally reached the conclusion. "You have a crush on me! Wait, no, that's not the case… You're having a weird dream about me!"

Stunned, for a second Lassiter considered the possibility that Shawn was an actual psychic.

"What- no, I am not!" He flushed hopelessly. "Have you lost your mind?!"

"Yes, you totally had it!" Shawn somehow wiggled out from the grasp then pointed finger at him. "You had a sex dream about me!" The big silly grin appeared again.

"No, I didn't and why are you grinning?! It's fucking weird!"

"Because that means you finally admitted that I'm in fact attractive!" Shawn exclaimed and Lassiter prayed to God that this room was soundproof.

"You are not attractive! You're- you're fucking idiot with stupid messy hairs!"

Shawn suddenly took a step closer to the taller man. "_Reeeeeally?_" He stretched the simple words to the length where it sounded somewhat teasing and sexy- _and upset?_ The detective's sense of danger warned him. _He's about to do something._ "You don't think I'm attractive, at all? Even you're having a sex dream about me?"

"I said I'm not!" Lassiter shouted cursing his stupid face skin blushing right now. "And there's nothing attractive about you, Spencer! You're like a retriever covered with dirt and jelly beans! You are childish and stupid and- You are _Spencer!_" He babbled desperately. His head was spinning, thoughts and words were jumbled, mad and embarrassed at the same time. He had no idea what was happening.

"Okay, Lassie. If you say so." And Shawn giving up easily was not the good sign. "Then you have no problem-" Lassiter realized he was cornered, by this little and weaker man, after his back bumped into the wall. He looked down at the brunet approaching him with a devilish smile.

"Spencer, what are you-"

Cutting off Lassiter in the middle of his words, Shawn lifted himself up to his eye level and leaned toward him. "-if I do this?" Shawn whispered right into the ear making the older man to stiffen like a stone. Lassiter's brain just stopped from functioning and started to fail. His rational thoughts and concerns were swept away. The warm air slowly moving around his ears made his entire body tremble. He could hear Shawn drawing his breath. And he couldn't help but recall the dreams. The dreams where the psychic was panting because of him. He swallowed restraining himself from the desire to kiss and take the man in front of him, and fuck him like his dream.

Failed to answer with his tongue, Lassiter just nodded with all his mind. An unsure sound meaning in between 'I'm good' and 'Oh, God' was made.

"Oh, really?" The tease whispered again, closing the gap between them. "But what if I go…" Then he barked and growled like a retriever playfully- oddly enough, that turned on Lassiter.

After few moments later, although it felt like an hour to the detective, Shawn drew back with a triumphant grin. It was visible that he was suppressing the laughter crawling up to his throat. "I guess I proved my point here." He hummed amusingly. "I should get going though. Got a sewerage to search."

Lassiter woke up from trance with his words. _wait, is he leaving? _And suddenly many new threads of thoughts started to come up and entangled simultaneously. _What the fuck just happened? What was that for? Did I just got played by this fucker? What should I do? God, I want to fuck him. Am I losing my mind? Probably. What should I do? Can I just kiss him? Just a little bit? I mean, he just seduced me. Stop, you are not gay to Spencer! Just stop it! But God, I want this. I want him. But I hate him. What should I do? What the fuck? What should I do?_

Too many things going on inside his head, he just stared at the guy who was about to leave. But at the end, the strongest thought won the debate. Irrational, sexually frustrated part of him took the control and snatched the brunet in the wrist and tugged the man back to him.

And he just kissed Shawn.

He kissed Shawn Spencer in reality.


	6. Attack Kiss 1

**A/N: Again, I just cut the chapter into two 'cause it'd be too long... anyway, as the title indicates, it's not safe for work, NSFW(man, i love that acronym)**

**And thank you for the replies! I'm trying to keep it as light as possible 'cause i don't wanna write angst and feely-feel stuff... well, at least for now. **

* * *

Lassiter seized Shawn's lips aggressively. With his hand locking the younger man in the wrist, he used the other hand to hold the back. His mind estimated the kiss would last few more seconds followed by awkward moment. Spencer would probably make some stupid movie reference about kiss- maybe from _The Godfather_- And he thought, if this was going to end soon, he should get everything he could get in this brief moment. Like it or not, Lassiter was dying to kiss the annoying hyperactive psychic. He hated Shawn from the bottom of his heart, but the same heart- more precisely his pent-up lust and the body containing it- wanted to kiss Shawn. And he started to justify himself. _Spencer had it coming. He ignored my warnings. I said back off and what he did? He breathed on my ear. He asked for it. It's not my fault that we're kissing_- even though the tiny reasonable thought questioned him, that that didn't make sense, that didn't give him the right to steal other person's lips. As the seconds flew by, Lassiter waited for Spencer to back away freaking out. And his life would be ruined for good because he just attack-kissed the department's consultant. This could turn into a disaster. Detective Lassiter pictured the headline; _Santa Barbara Police Department's Head Detective, Molest the Department's Consultant!_ Maybe O'Hara could be merciful and shoot me to death, he thought miserably but still couldn't stop kissing Shawn. So he just closed the eyes, waiting for the consequences of his urge.

However, Shawn didn't seem to be surprised or shocked. He didn't break the kiss, he didn't back away, he didn't freak out and run away. Instead, he kissed back. _Thank God_, Lassiter breathed out in relief. At least he was not the only one who was kissing. In fact, Shawn was kissing him back vigorously shifting closer to the detective. It surprised Lassiter when the smaller man snatched his tie and pulled him down to match the heights of their lips. But soon he accepted it as consent and fully focused on kissing. The detective held up Shawn's wrist and pushed him into the wall. His other hand attached to the wounded shoulder went down to the waist. In return, Shawn let go of the tie and wrapped his free hand around the nape of the older man. Everything in position, they tasted each other's lips. Shawn didn't taste like a pineapple as in his dream. Shawn tasted more like a mixture of all kind of snacks he had in daily bases. And Lassiter craved the scent of junk food, addicted to it. He kissed the psychic pushfully and aggressively till his head started to feel dizzy lacking air. Gasping slightly, Lassiter pulled back for a second and dived in again to Shawn who was chuckling, panting just the same.

It was the loud sound of iPhone ringtone coming out from Shawn's pocket that ended their make out session. They both stopped still eyeing each other awkwardly, panting. But then, they tacitly agreed to ignore the phone and went back to the state where they were about half step away from eating up each other's lips. Thankfully, the ringing died down eventually… before it started to bug the two again with another ringing. Still invested into the kissing, Lassiter growled with displeasure. Whoever it was disturbing this, he wanted to punch and kick his or her ass. Shawn eyed his pocket now getting distracted by the calling. He backed away little breathing heavily. But before he reaches out and takes it out, the phone went off again. Clearly, the moment- if this was a moment- was ruined and now they were about to enter the awkward 'We need to talk' phase. Lassiter didn't want that, Shawn didn't seem like a big fan of conversation. So they gave it a go again, grazing each other's teeth again. Lassiter let out a satisfied growl as he breathed in the brunet. But they were stopped by another phone call again- this time it was Lassiter's.

Their connection broke up again. "Maybe you should-" Out of breath to finish the sentence, Shawn said eyeing down at the other man's pocket. Although he was not 100% sure that the psychic was watching his phone- he was semi-hard and the bulge was probably visible.

"Yeah, I-" Panting, the detective pulled out the phone quickly still holding Shawn in the wrist. He read the name on the screen- It was Guster. "What?" He took the call and snapped clearly annoyed. And he hoped it was not noticeable that he was breathing heavily.

_"Lassiter, if you murdered and stewing Shawn in there, I swear to-" _Gus sounded pretty worried but Lassiter didn't care at all. He had a make out to do.

"He's not dead, Guster!" He hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

Shawn let out a snicker before his phone started to ring the ringtone again. Sighing, he drew up his phone and got the phone with a stupid tone. "Hellooo?"

_"If you are alive pick up the damn phone, Shawn!"_ It was Gus again. Lassiter raised a brow being impatient. How the hell one supposed to kiss the other when he was on the phone? _Neck_, he concluded and leaned toward Shawn.

"I've been bus-y" Shawn answered with a flinch when the taller man decided to attack him in the neck. And that even more turned him on.

_"What are you two doing in there?"_ asked Gus while Shawn was trying his best to hide it over the phone, that the other man was marking him hickey on his skin.

"Nothing! Just a little chitchat!" Shawn said with a small giggle. Lassiter couldn't help but snort with his lie.

_"Shawn, where's Carlton?" _Lassiter could hear Juliet's voice interfering. _What now?_ He grumbled internally..

He almost snatched the phone out of the psychic's hand and answered it grumpily. "O'Hara."

_"Carlton, I know Shawn can be annoying and immature-"_ Shawn wrinkled his nose with her words. _"Don't do anything you would regret. At least one of you should act like an adult."_

"Hey! I'm right here!" Shawn whined.

_"You too, Shawn. Stop bugging Carlton. You've been too much lately. Respect his personal space."_ Juliet scolded with her mother-ish tone. _"Now you two solve it like grown-ups and get out of there."_

"Fine." The two both rolled their eyes as Juliet hung up the phone. Lassiter passed the phone back and let go the brunet's wrist. But now that their sudden, impulsive kiss was ended, there was awkward silence in the air. The head detective straightened his tie while the psychic touching his hair to make it like before.

Lassiter had no idea what to say. It's not like Carlton never kissed a person and had a conversation. He was in fact married once. He knew the drill. But this time, it was much complicated than the other cases. Not to mention he had never kissed a man, the one he kissed was Spencer. The awkwardness was floating around the air with the old dust of the storage rose by the two. And they had never had a normal or idle talk outside of the work. Hell, they didn't even talk outside of the work. He didn't know what Shawn does while not dancing around the station or crime scenes, poking and throwing 'visions' with shenanigan. All he could imagine was Shawn watching TV and movies eating Doritos and ice cream.

"So…" Thankfully, the silence was broken by the other man. Although Lassiter still had nothing in his mind.

"So…" He just repeated Shawn.

"That was a hell of a Fredo-kiss…" As he expected, Shawn madethe reference with an awkward smile. And as usual, the detective just crooked his lips with a snort. "Um, I guess we should talk about it?" said Shawn unsurely.

"Right." Lassiter agreed halfheartedly.

"Or we could act like this never happened." Shawn shrugged.

"I like that." He answered shortly.

"Me too." Shawn showed him the wide stupid grin. "But before we go in denial, I just want to say I really liked it."

Lassiter raised a brow at the psychic. "Like what?"

"Making out."

"…That makes two of us." He admitted quickly taking his eyes off from Shawn. Still, he could sense that Shawn was grinning in triumph.

And the next question came out gave him a choke. "You wanna do it again?"

"What?" Lassiter turned to the psychic.

"Making out." Shawn said casually like it was not a big deal. _And how the hell is that acting like 'This never happened'?_

"…I'd rather take a milk bath with lavender scented candles lighted." Lassiter answered with his entire face covered with a frown. Of course, it was not an honest answer. If they weren't disturbed by the co-workers, he would have continued kissing Spencer for hours.

"If you say so, Lassiepants." Shawn gave up too easily.

_What's his game?_ The detective wondered. "Well then. I think we're done here."

"Okay." Again, the relentless manchild was giving up too easily.

"Okay." Putting behind his suspicion, Lassiter turned on his heel and walked up to the door before his wrist was captured and tugged, his entire body was forced to turn back again. "What-" And suddenly Shawn was on his lips again. With a quick move, the younger man snatched his tie again and pulled him downward and kissed him. He was awed because of the kiss and Shawn's swift move.

Shawn pulled away quickly giving him a playful smirk. "Oops."

"What was that for?!"

"Something to remember me by?"

"And what the fucking part that I missed from your 'let's pretend like nothing happened' plan?!" Lassiter glared at the younger man who was still fiddling his tie.

"Oh, _we_ are following the plan." Shawn smiled innocently which pushed the detective's button. "_I_ am ignoring it."

Lassiter stared at the sly bastard with the mixed feelings of confusion and anger. "You son of a-"

"So. You, me, my place, tonight?" Of course, Shawn didn't give a damn.

"I'd rather learn how to juggle to gypsy!" Lassiter turned back and walked up to the door.

"Buuuuut, you will drop by, maybe?" Shawn offered again which stopped Lassiter from opening the door. His mind was debating intensely. It quickly formed pros and cons list, and of course, cons won a sweeping victory. Making out with Spencer, semi-co-worker, a male, the most annoying person in the world was good for nothing. He couldn't think of any benefit of digging the crook's lips at its den other than '_It's fun_'. It was reasonable and rational to decline the invitation.

But like the most of addicts, Lassiter couldn't say the simple answer of firm _no_.

"I don't know!" He ended up yelling out and storming out. O'Hara and Guster were standing few steps away from the door but he just ignored them. Growling under his breath he turned his direction and walked away as fast as he could. And the entire time there was a visible blush stained his face, probably the side effect of making out with Spencer.

And yes, Lassiter was already addicted to it.


	7. Attack Arrest

**A/N: Turned out I don't have to put author's note in every chapter. Hmm... Anyway, sorry I'm late on update. Slow writer. Sorry.**

* * *

"So the camera was a dead end."

It was 6 o'clock in the station when Juliet came back to her desk. The sun was going down slowly shining through the windows. The shine reached the desk of head detective melting down the chocolate crumbs and pieces jelly bean to sticky pond of goo. And Lassiter was sitting back on his chair his eyes staring at the screen of his computer. But it was empty.

"No Garrison, no manhole, no nothing." Juliet said with a frustrated sigh falling down on her chair. She had been with the computer all day looking for the missing killer on the camera.

"Good." Lassiter responded absently.

"I mean, the theory seemed legit… Maybe Shawn was wrong this time." She sighed again glancing over her partner.

"Yeah." He answered slowly without thinking. His mind was in somewhere else, still in processing what happened earlier today. He kissed Spencer- not on forehead or cheek or nose even though that would have been weirder, but on the lips. With tongue. Lots of, lots of tongue. And then making bite marks on the neck. _That probably counts as at least second base_, Lassiter thought dumpishly groaning in headache of shame and self-pity. And the worst part was that even with the many signs and signals Shawn threw at him, it was him that kissed first. How can he be so reckless and impulsive? He just threw himself right into the trap Spencer and now he was screwed.

"Carlton?" Lassiter flinched as his partner approached on his desk without noise. "What's going on? You've been distracted all day." She waved her hands in front of his eyes.

"Nothing. I'm _fine_**.**" He grumbled shoving her hand away.

"People don't say 'fine' like that when they're really fine."

"_Fine_. You have an expertise in telling whether people are fine or not." Smiling sarcastically, he stood up from the chair taking his coat.

"Carlton." Juliet gave him a _'Whatever you've gotten into yourself into, we still love you'_ look which weirdly made him to frown.

"What?"

"_Carlton._" She shook her head slowly still giving him the look.

"Keep saying my name doesn't change my answer, O'Hara." Lassiter scoffed walking past his partner.

"Carlton Lassiter." Of course, Juliet followed him.

_God, she's relentless._ He thought speeding up his steps. "Full name too."

"Head detective?" She caught up with him quickly looking him up and down, probably trying to see if there was something wrong with him.

"Still no."

"Binky."

"_Really?_" Lassiter turned to her with a frown but didn't bother to stop.

The detectives reached the door and walked out to the evening sunshine. Juliet stopped at the front stairs but Lassiter didn't. She shouted at his back. "Carlton. I'm just worried about you!"

"I said I'm _fine_! God, O'Hara! Leave me alone!" Lassiter yelled back walking away from the station.

"Where are you going?!"

"Home!" The problem was that Lassiter couldn't drive because of his shoulder, and that Juliet had been his ride these couple of days.

"You can't even drive, Carlton! And I'm not taking you home!" She yelled crossing her arms.

"Well, then I'm stuck!" He turned on his heel putting up a sneer on his face. "Oh, wait! I have legs and feet and I know how to call a cab!"

"_Fine!_ Do whatever you want!" She gave him a scowl before turning around and going back to the station.

"_Fine!_" Lassiter turned back too and walked away.

* * *

Turned out it's a lot harder to catch a cab when you don't have any cash. So like a lost dog- He actually felt like an abandoned dog… then realized it's really weird to feel it that way after arguing with the partner- Lassiter trudged his way down to his apartment. _That didn't go well_, he thought idly. Clearly, he was not in a good place to think straight… or have a civil conversation with the colleague. The sunset heated his back as his stomach started to growl. All the yelling at Spencer and O'Hara made him hungry. He wanted to eat something salty and greasy, and maybe a soda after finishing whole bag of jelly beans. So he decided to go by at ATM and pick up some hotdogs from near stand.

Soon Lassiter sat down on a bench near the beach with two burgers since he couldn't find a hotdog stand, and a pineapple smoothie. He almost yelled at the owner but it was either pineapple or some kind of weird tea which he didn't want to take a leap of faith.

He unwrapped one of the burger and took a bite, chewing the junk food down to his throat. It had been a crazy day. And this was just what he needed, cool breeze, sounds of waves, burgers and smoothie. Finally, he was in peace, kind of. Leaning back on the bench, he enjoyed his meal without thinking about annoying psychic and what happened today.

At least till a bald man with handful of grocery bag walked past him at the bench, then came back. "Lassiter?"

"Henry?" Lassiter looked up with his mouth still filled with the burger. Henry Spencer, the father of fake psychic and a former detective was standing in the usual Aloha shirts. He swallowed it down and wiped out his lips. "What are you doing down here?"

"Shawn lives around the corner. Maddie makes me drop by and check on him time to time. That idiot doesn't know how to buy grocery." The ex-cop grumbled under his breath something indistinct, probably a curse.

"So… you buy grocery for him?"

"And you would think you don't have to feed your kid when he's over puberty." Henry sighed shaking his head slightly- Lassiter suddenly felt sorry for the old man. After all, the man's gene turned out to be Shawn Spencer- "Anyway, how's your shoulder?"

"Getting better." Lassiter respond with a small nod.

"Good." Henry nodded back, checking his wristwatch. "Okay, gotta go. Shawn will be home any minute, said he has a _friend_ over or something. I should put these in the fridge- if you can call it a fridge- before I witness unwanted business." He made a weird face wrinkling his nose.

Lassiter quickly looked away hoping the sunset would hide him flushing. He knew who that _friend_ of Spencer would be. "Okay, I'll see you around."

With a simple wave, Henry took the turn at the corner and disappeared.

Lassiter attacked the burger aggressively trying to wipe out the thoughts inside his head. His evening was ruined by the small talk with Henry. And it was all because of Shawn Spencer. _That moron with the stupid smirk_, he growled under the breath crashing the burger like it was the perky psychic. _I should have gotten rid of him when I got a chance. Things're getting out of hands…_ At least till today, he was just having a weird dream about one of his work-associated people- Lassiter didn't want to classify the psychic and sidekick as his colleagues- But now that he and Shawn had gone through some incident, things got a lot worse than it was, too complicated.

First of all, there was a matter of his job. Even though the kiss was mutual, there would be consequences, probably scandals and bureaucratic disadvantages if this thing was exposed that the head detective of Santa Barbara Police had a fling with the department consultant. And there was Spencer's charade. Lassiter never bought any of his crap about the visions, episodes or whatever Psych morons named them. There was no way in the name of sweet lady Justice that Spencer and Guster had been doing something legal. Even if they had, the very moment Shawn Spencer turned out to be a liar, not a psychic, he could be charged as hindering police investigation. What if he got involved with those scams? Lassiter didn't even want to imagine what would happen.

And at the end of the list, there was the biggest problem. Shawn Spencer is a _male_. A male person. Last time he checked, Shawn used the man's room peeing stand. So there was a high chance that the psychic was biologically a man- Lassiter didn't want to and couldn't rule out the possibility where Henry just decided to keep Shawn as a boy- Which made this whole situation very… well, _homoerotic._ It's not like Lassiter had problem with homosexuality. He was kind of old-fashioned but not in that way. But he never had considered himself in homosexual relationship… Of course, he had a man crush in some celebrities like Clint Eastwood, not in sexual way though. It was more of an admire, a longing, desires to be like him, not to be _with_ him. And Lassiter couldn't understand himself that why in the name of his ancestor Colonel Muscum Lassiter, he was drawn toward Shawn… He couldn't think of any reason he would fall for the snarky self-centered fake psychic. _And why me?_ Lassiter didn't even know Shawn was attracted to him. Of course, over the years the psychic touched him everywhere from a friendly patting on the shoulder to sitting on his laps- _Was that some kind of sign? Spencer's way to 'I like you?' Is he 9 or something?_

_…Probably. _

Choked with the lump of burgers, Lassiter poured the smoothie down to the throat. Then he unwrapped the second burger, attacking it with his teeth again. It almost appeared that he was mad at the burger… _It's all his fault_, Lassiter cursed Spencer in his mind. He hated overkill, especially when the matter inside his mind didn't have a clear answer. His whole life was going down, dragged down to the same level as Spencer and his idiocy. And he didn't know what to do next. _So now what?_ The detective asked himself. Shawn's invitation although he doubted if he could call it 'invitation', was still on his mind. From what he had seen in the storage, there was a high chance that Shawn wants to continue.

_I should say no_, Lassiter thought finishing off the burger. _This is insane. This has to stop._ He took out his phone. Going through address book, he found the name 'Shawn Spencer' on the screen with a pineapple wearing sunglasses photo in the profile. Few months ago, Shawn somehow lifted the phone from the pocket and changed his profile name to _'SBPD Head Psychic Shawn Spenstar'_ and put pineapple in the photo section. It ended with Lassiter smacking Shawn Spenstar in the head and he changed name back to the normal. However, that pineapple weirdly reminded him of Spencer who practically eats the fruit every day. So it stuck around.

And before he touches the screen and makes the call, the phone started to ring. It was Spencer. Doubting his own theory that Spencer is just a fake crook for the second time in the day, Lassiter picked up the call. "Spen-"

_"Ha! I told you I can dial!"_ Shawn shouted over the phone proudly. He sounded distant from the phone. "_I totally nailed it!_"

_"Shawn, not now!"_ Gus said with annoyed tone. "_And stop wiggling!_"

_"But my back is itching."_ Shawn whined.

Lassiter sighed quietly pinching the bridge of his nose. He thought Shawn called because of tonight's plan. Now it seemed like Spencer and Guster were in trouble. "What are you two-"

_"Okay, Jules, I have good news and bad news."_ Shawn cut the detective and started to talk. _"Good news is, we found Garrison. Bad news is, he kinda got us and he got a gun. Wait, that's a great name for a reality show- He got us, He got a gun. A show that focuses on violence and what was it, Stonecold Syndrome?"_

_"It's Stockholm Syndrome. And there's no way in hell that show's gonna picked up by a network."_

_"Man, you're so Ross Geller. And that makes me Phoebe Buffay, a blond suburban mother with a psychic ability who works in DA's office."_

_"Shawn, those are two different shows."_

_"I unrespectfully agree to disagree"_

_"__**Dis**__-respect, Shawn, __**disrespectfully**__."_

"Enouuuuuuugh." He snarled annoyed by the psychic. "This is _Lassiter_. Have you failed to remember how to dial or is this one of your prank call, Spencer? And if it's the latter, I'd like to inform you that I carry a gun."

_"Lassie? What are you doing on Jules's phone?_"

"This is _my_ phone." Lassiter said with irritation.

_"Huh. So you two share the phone? Gus, we should totally get-"_

_"Shawn, you misdialed. Speed dial must've been mixed."_ Gus cut in. _"Lassiter, we are in trouble."_

Lassiter let out a sigh again. "What did you do this time?"

_"Garrison is here." _Gus whispered like the killer suddenly could hear them. _"We found him but he has a gun, so we ended up in a rope."_

Lassiter stood up from the bench, surprised that they found the killer. "How did you-"

"_I'd love to explain..._" Shawn answered quickly. "_but Gus has a very tiny bladder and I'm not sure how long he can hold._"

"Fine. Where the hell are you two?"

_"It's storage unit on 510 Castillo Street."_

"I'll be there as soon as I can." said Lassiter walking toward the street looking for a cab. He couldn't find one. _Well, that's just my luck_, he muttered under the breath.

_"Thanks, Lassieface. You're a lifesaver."_ Shawn chuckled over the phone. Lassiter could hear Gus's sigh which he could see the reason- _that guy has no sense of danger_, he thought. _"Oh, by the way, about tonight's plan-"_

Lassiter hung up the phone quickly. "Moron…" Grumbling under his breath, he dialed his partner without choice. He needed a ride. And backup too. "Hey, O'Hara, I need you to- No, I'm not apologizing!"

* * *

About 20 minutes and arguing in the car-_'O'Hara, take the left!' 'This way is faster!' 'Just let me drive!' 'You are injured, Carlton!'_- the detectives reached the storage where Shawn called from. The uniforms were on their way, but there was no time to delay. The two partners in (fighting) crime walked into the building with their gun safety off.

The inside was lighted with dim lanterns, some of them flickering. There were hundreds of storages lined up in orders. Shawn didn't mention where exactly they were, so the detectives had no choice but searching the storage one by one. Lassiter tensed up with his senses paying sharp attention to tiny noises, shadows swaying under the light. Shawn and Gus weren't in the first row. But when they took the corner, a loud voice came from the distance.

"But! Your plan was screwed thanks Detective Dipstick, may he rest in peace, you have no choice but running away!" Of course, it was Spencer with smugly tone, revealing the criminal. _Why that guy always has to explain how they committed the crime?_ Lassiter wondered slowly approaching to the storage to get a sight.

"Shawn, Lassiter is not dead." Thankfully Guster pointed out that the detective was alive. Actually he could see the two and Garrison now, pointing a gun at them. They were both tied up in the chairs.

"No, I know. That man needs a peaceful time off, really." Shawn explained before cocking up his chin dramatically. "Anyway! The problem was, you still needed that money to pay your debt. So you crawled around the time to time coming up for grocery. By the way, nice choice of the store. They have the best basket."

"There's no one around except us. Why do you have to-"

The psychic ignored his friend and went on. "And your partner- excuse me, ex-partner who you have poisoned, he may rest in peace, and this time I meant in funeral kinda way, were a well-known clock collector! You thought you could make a fortune out of selling these! So you crawled around again looking for this place! But unfortunately-"

"Why is he keep talking?" Garrison asked.

"Oh, don't ask me." said Gus with a snort. "I don't understand him either."

"Gus! How dare you!"

"Shut up, both of you!" Garrison shouted pointing a gun in Shawn's head.

_We need more time._ Lassiter thought glancing over the scene. He took a position before turning to his partner to sign her. He gestured her to go around. She nodded and quickly moved to the corner.

"Where was I?" Shawn asked to Gus not giving a shit about the gun.

"Unfortunately."

"Right, unfortunately, my brilliancy excelled you and leaded me here! So now you're punk'd!" He laughed like a villain in some cheesy movie. "By the way, have you seen the episode of Punk'd with that guy-"

"I said shut up!" Garrison unlocked the safety and that was the cue.

Lassiter walked out from the shadow shooting a glare at the culprit. "Put down your weapon!" Holding his gun as steady as possible with wounded shoulder, he aimed at Garrison.

"You're late, Lassie! You should've walked out when I said 'unfortunately' and finished my sentence!" Shawn whined.

"Not now, Spencer!" Lassiter shouted annoyingly, not looking away from his target. "I said. Put. Down. Your. Weapon." Growling threateningly, he calculated whether he could hit the bull's-eye on the gun in the worst scenario. _Where the hell is O'Hara?_

Garrison suddenly stepped closer to the hostages and put the gun in the psychic's head. "Don't move. I shot once, I'm not afraid to do it again."

"Um, Lassie, little help here?" Shawn oddly sounded calm.

"Don't be stupid, Garrison! The uniforms on their way, probably surrounded this place." Lassiter crooked the side of his lips putting up a sneer.

"Then I won't go down alone!" The killer shouted grabbing his gun desperately.

Several things happened at once; a gunshot echoed in the room, Juliet who came out of nowhere lunged toward the killer, grabbed his arm and flipped him crashing him on the ground saying "That's for my partner, jackass.", Lassiter rushed to Shawn- and found him with a stupid grin on his face.

"It's a fake gun that shoots only blanks." Shawn shrugged with a smug while the detective's mouth was wide open. "Worked 3 days in a toy gun shop in Seattle. He probably lost his while venturing underground."

Lassiter suddenly had a strong urge to smack the grinning man in the head hard. But he had to admit, he was glad that Shawn was okay. "You could have told me! You could have been killed, Spencer!"

"Well, I'm not. End is well that all well."

"It's '_All is well that ends well_'." Sighing, he untied Shawn.

The psychic jumped off the chair and smirked. "I've heard it both ways."

"Of course you have." Lassiter rolled his eyes, too tired to argue with Shawn. Moving over to Gus who had been awfully quiet for the whole time, he found the man passed out. "Wait, what happened to Guster?"

"Oh, I totally forgot to tell him about the fake gun." Shawn smiled innocently.

Lassiter bet that Shawn didn't forget.


	8. Attack Drag 2

**A/N: Yeah, I decided to make a note in every chapter. I like writing notes so. Not sure if this story makes any sense to you guys, and I appreciate your review on this :) just saying. Not that I want everyone to review, no, not at all.** **Anyway I think the next chapter will be the last one, and there will be an epilogue...**

* * *

After Gus recovered his consciousness- and after he and Shawn had a stupid childish smacking fight- the uniforms arrived and carried away Garrison. Juliet must have been mad for some reason and venting on that guy, because she intentionally banged his head on the car. Lassiter suspected the period. Anyway, she did a good work tonight.

"Nick work, O'Hara." Lassiter walked up to his partner who was leaning against the building with her arms folded. She was pouting too. He even offered her a small, proud smile.

"Yeah, you too." She answered halfheartedly, still pouting.

"Hey, we just busted Garrison. Why are you extra cranky?" Lassiter raised a brow with her respond. "Are you on your period?"

"Why I'm not even mad?" Juliet murmured quietly. Sighing, she shook her head with a visible stress on her face.

"Well, if you're not, why are you-"

"It's because of you, Carlton!" She shot a scowl at him. "You've been acting weird all week and you don't even tell me why! And it drives me crazy!"

A bit dumbfounded, he couldn't help but blink before answering. "When did I ever tell-"

"Of course you don't tell me what's going on. You never tell me what's going on but I know what's going on usually. But this time I have no idea! What's gotten into you? Is it drug? Is it some kind of corruption? Is it a girl!?" Juliet cornered him to the wall which seemed like a popular thing to do lately. And she had that look on her face saying _'Tell me the truth then I might be merciful and spare you' _without words. "What is it?!"

Without thinking Lassiter crossed his arms to defense. _My survival instinct finally sees the light... in a wrong situation_. "I- uh, O'Hara, why don't you just-"

"No, I'm not gonna calm down! Either you tell me what's going on or I will be very, very pissed!"

"Wait, is this not you being-"

"Yeah, I'm still not pissed, I'm mad! God, get a grip, Lassiter!" _Yeah, she is pissed_, Lassiter thought idly. "Tell me, what's going on?"

"I can't tell!" answered Lassiter.

"Why?!"

"It's not something to talk about!"

"What are you two talking about? By the way everyone's looking at you two." Suddenly Shawn popped up between them with curious sparkling in his eyes.

"Not now, Spencer!" "Not now, Shawn!"

The brunet winced and stepped back to where Gus was standing. "What's going on?" asked Gus.

"Mommy and daddy are fighting."

"You know what? _Fine_, keep act weird, keep things from me, I don't care. Why do I even bother?" She turned on her heel and walked away, throwing her hands up in the air. "Good luck finding a new driver!" The boys just stared at her getting in her car and driving away.

"I've never seen Juliet pissed like that." Gus commented.

"She's not _pissed_- she is _mad_." Lassiter corrected with a sigh.

Shawn let out a snicker. "What have you done this time, Lassieface?"

"_You_." snarled Lassiter turning to the psychic with his finger pointed at him. "It's all _your_ fault."

"What? Why are you pinning this on me?"

"Because you-" He stopped still suddenly turning his glare to Gus. He could feel his vein pumping on his forehead, and with Gus' reaction, it was likely that the vein was visible. "Guster, may I borrow your friend for a second?"

Smirking, Shawn cocked up his chin to the air. "Haha, wrong move as always, Detective Lassiter. There's no way Gus would let-"

"Sure. I'm gonna get some taco." Gus simply shrugged and backed off.

Shawn's mouth fell open with shock. "Gus!"

"That's for not telling me about the fake gun. I was scared to death, Shawn. Now it's your turn."

"But-"

"You heard the man. Let's go have a chat, Spencer." Feigning a friendly smile, Lassiter dragged the smaller, wiggling man by his nape.

* * *

They walked down few blocks away from the storage unit. Meanwhile, Shawn being Shawn, he didn't shut up and went on and on about how Gus was overreacting, that he cannot believe this, and will not stand this betrayal which was unacceptable, then went over to his avenge plan- Lassiter made a note to himself to keep Shawn away from firecracker shop.

Shawn wiggled time to time adjusting the position, making the detective to take turns and cross the streets. Lassiter didn't bother to stop the talkative man. He just screened out all the babbling and yammering fashioned with references. Instead, he thought about what to say and how to act with the upcoming conversation. Of course, at first Lassiter was mad. But now that he thought about it quietly- or ignoring Shawn- he found out that him being mad was what exactly Spencer wanted. Rage and anger was the reason why he lost the control of situation last time. This time, he should deal it calm and still like a normal human being.

"Lassie, are you even listening?" whined Shawn turning his head to the detective who hadn't spoken for a while.

"I am now." He let go of his prey as they got out of people's sight. Crossing his arms, he stared down at Shawn. "Spencer, we need to talk."

"About what?" Shawn asked preoccupied with checking the back of his neck.

"About what happened back in station today." Lassiter let out a sigh. _He has the concentration of five years old._

The psychic looked up with quizzical look. "I thought we agreed not to talk about it?"

"Yeah, but we have to."

"Okay." Shawn agreed without hesitation which bugged the detective.

"First of all, we can't do _that_ again." Lassiter said with his eyes narrowed at the brunet.

"_That?_" Shawn tilted his head a bit. "Oh, you mean- I get it. Why not?" He asked almost carelessly.

"Because; one, I'm not gay. Two, as much as I hate to admit it you're a consultant in the department. It's work-related. Things can get complicated. And three, I'm not gay." He listed the reasons, slightly feeling proud of himself being calm and logical.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not exclusively gay too. But fair enough. Very good point." Shawn flashed him a smile, tapping him on the shoulder.

"No touching." He added smacking the hand.

"Okay." Grinning, Shawn shrugged and put his hands in the pocket. "No touching."

Distracted by that somewhat adorable- _Nope, it's not adorable. Focus, Carlton!_- not adorable gesture, Lassiter paused for a second forgot what he was trying to say. He prepared a whole speech for this and now it had gone blank. _Damn it, Spencer you sneaky bastard!_ "...Anyway, therefore I can't go to your place tonight. It's inappropriate and weird."

"Got it. I understand your feelings." Shawn nodded in surprisingly normal, civil way. Except the quiet look on his face, he seemed very calm about this.

_It's a bit too easy. _Lassiter thought. He expected '_No, Shawn Spencer do not accept no for an answer!_' type of denial or '_It's okay, Lassie, don't be afraid_' like placation, or in worst case, '_You're just too chicken to do me_' kind of provoking, _That_ was the kind of Spencer he expected. _This_ was too mature for Spencer. And he didn't like it.

"What's your game, Spencer?" Lassiter looked close to the other man trying to read his seemingly innocent look.

"Game? There's no game." Shawn frowned little, seemed offended.

"No, you're giving up too easily." Lassiter shook his head in disbelief. "Who are you and what have you done to Spencer? If you killed him I must send you a thank-you note."

"Lassie. You're being irrational." He couldn't believe that Shawn just said '_irrational_' to him. "You said you don't wanna make out with me, so I said I understand! What did you expect? Kicking and crying?"

"Now you're just messing my head." Lassiter shot a glare at the smaller man.

"I'm not messing your head. Why would I mess your head- yours is already awful covered with awful hair!"

"No, that's what you do! You mess my head with, with weird touching and snacks and kissing and- You're Spencer!" Lassiter shouted back, started to losing control.

"Wha- you're not making any sense!" The psychic frowned giving him a weird look.

"So are you! You were all over me and messing with me then suddenly you're all gentle and nice! It's fucking mixed signal!" Lassiter threw up his hands. The '_calm and still like a normal human being_' plan seemed like resulted in failure.

"God, why do you always have to think too much?! You're always like '_rules are this, rules are that, this is not right, people would think it's weird, I'm not gay_'." Shawn grumbled with his lips pursed as if it was like Lassiter. "Just stop thinking for a second! And who gives a shit if you're gay or not? You don't want me anyway! I told you I understand! Why can't you just believe me?!"

"Because you don't tell the truth! You never tell the fucking truth! Have you ever told someone something straight, without movie reference and charade? Because it seemed like you haven't!"

"And you're angry and yelling all the time! You're like _Jack Bauer_ with a freaking temper issue! Why are you yelling at me?!"

"You're yelling too!"

"Well, I'm sorry if I'm a bit emotional because my crush just rejected me!"

They glared at each other with heavy breath. In silence, they kept their eye contacts like it was a battle. Lassiter gnashed his teeth breathing deep and out with his nose while Shawn was biting his bottom lips till it got pale. Cooling down the brain heated up with anger and shouting, Lassiter slowly processed what Shawn just said.

_He said crush_.

"What did you just say?" asked Lassiter quietly, still panting.

"You heard me."

"Yeah, but I wanna make it sure."

Shawn scowled at the taller man. There was a hint of resentment in his eyes. "_Fine_. You're my crush. I _like_ you. I don't care if you're a man or a woman. That doesn't matter. I just like you."

Lassiter didn't break their eyes, but couldn't help but wrinkle his forehead with a frown. He thought if everything gets clear this weird feeling inside him will be gone. But it was still there. The twisting in his guts, comforting and uncomforting at the same time. Lassiter hated that unexplainable feeling. And he hated Shawn Spencer. Nothing made sense with that guy. His ridiculous job as a psychic detective to his childish acts, recklessness and careless nature, amazing crime solving skills, quirks, lies, shenanigans, snacks, references, clothing, hair, everything was nonsense. Lassiter hated nonsense.

But for the first time, Shawn made a sense to him.

"Since when?" A question popped out from his head and slipped out between his lips.

"It's been a while... like few months. Does it matter, anyway?"

"…You should have just told me, Spencer." grumbled Lassiter under his breath, blushing on his face. "Then it would've been much simpler."

"Why I'm sorry if the kissing was too subtle." Shawn rolled his eyes.

"Shut up."

Shawn pouted with his arm crossed. "No, I mean it. It's entirely my fault. Of course you can't see that I like you. I gave you a pink bear, Lassie. A freaking pink bear! And I named him Lassie after a bloody battle with Gus and the store manager! What more do you want?"

"I want you to shut up." Then he just closed their distance and kissed Shawn in the lips as his gut navigating.

Lassiter decided not to think about it.


	9. Attack Kiss 2

**A/N: Sorry for late update... :I This is my first smut and it's... well, harder than I thought. I'm not sure I'm making sense at all *nervous breakdown laughs* Anyway, next chapter is the last one... so.**

* * *

Lassiter cupped Shawn's face gently as possible as leaning in closer. Through the half fell open mouth his tongue entered and entwined with Shawn's. As he recalled from the afternoon, the kiss was warm. And also beardy… which somewhat made it even better. Lassiter felt the rough skin of the other man, and the lips that would not stop unless he put something to keep it quiet- for instance, a lot of, not _just_ a lot but _a lot enough_ to physically disable Shawn's mouth to function, or like a tongue to stop him- He couldn't see the reaction of Shawn since he just closed his eyes. He didn't want to think about what he should do next, how things would turn out between them or anything. He had done with thoughts. He just wanted to kiss Shawn. And he wanted Shawn to respond in a positive way.

At first he did. A muffled moan escaped from his throat encouraging the detective. He ran his hand through Lassiter's tidy up hair ruffling it with the tender, baby like fingertips. They sank in breathing through each other. The initial warmth of kiss suddenly took a turn and spiked to passionate heat. Lassiter could feel their heartbeat synced. It traveled through his spine making him tremble intensifying his desire. And he hoped Shawn to feel the same thing.

"W-wait, Lassie." But Shawn pulled away making a gap between the two.

"What?" He almost whispered still leaned on closely to the other man.

"Um, you really wanna do this?"

Lassiter pulled back too. A little frown occupied his face wrinkling the forehead. That question ruined the mood. "I _am_ doing it."

"No, I mean," Shawn looked around the alleyway they were standing. "You wanna do this in _here? _Not that I've never done it before. Actually there's this time when me and my friend had a little jumble rumble in an empty dumpster…"

"Hold on. Are you saying you violated-"

"Yes."

"In a dumpster?"

"Yep. And I'm telling you, it's really cozy in there." Shawn shrugged carelessly. "And I don't mind doing it again."

"I'd rather wear a tight short to work."

"Well, both of those options work for me."

"Spencer, there's no way in hell I'm going inside the dumpster." Lassiter said with a stern look, stopping Shawn before he says anything. "And I'm not gonna wear a tight short."

"Aw, that's too shame. Your legs need some air and sunshine." Shawn pouted. "How about my place? It's around the corner."

Lassiter wondered how they ended up so conveniently close to Shawn's apartment. _Maybe Spencer manipulated me while he was babbling_, he thought idly. "How's that different from dumpsters?"

"It's bigger and has TV?"

"We are not going to your place."

"What if I convince you to?"

"Good luck with that." Lassiter snorted.

"Oh, I don't need luck." Shawn grinned big and wrapped his arms around the taller detective's neck. "'cause I can be very persuasive, like a fuzzy little bunny with a great hair." Then he pulled Lassiter closer and kissed him passionately. Lassiter involuntarily made a pleased sound. Shawn was right; he could be very persuasive with the tongue. Other thoughts vanished from his mind. He just wanted to make out with Shawn for hours in any available place- even in a dumpster.

Lassiter let out a groan as Shawn pulled away again with a smug face. Taking Shawn by the arm, he dragged the psychic down to the street. "Let's go." He said briefly.

"Told you so. Now say it, Lassie, that I have the greatest hair throughout all the time and space."

"Shut up."

They headed to a small building without words. It was a bit of an awkward walk. Shawn leaded the way to his place swinging his arms jollily and Lassiter followed him holding his forearm, and had no choice but joining in to the arm swinging. They walked in a relaxed speed… well, at least one of them did. Shawn was obviously taking steps in a slow deliberately. _He's such a tease_, Lassiter thought pinching the leading man in the forearm.

"Ow!" Shawn wiggled out from the grab and gave a frown to the taller man.

"You walk too slow." explained Lassiter.

"This is my fast walk!"

"Then walk _faster_." Lassiter ordered sternly.

"Man, you have a controlling issue." Muttering, Shawn clicked his tongue and held the hand of Lassiter.

Lassiter almost flinched with the warmth of the hand. It was different from the time Shawn grabbed his hand trying to read the palm. Holding hand in this way was way better. Flushing Lassiter let the psychic to lead the way

* * *

They reached the apartment few minutes later. And Lassiter raised a brow as he witnessed the living room which was a generous expression since the place had the different structure than Lassiter was accustomed to. There were a ridiculously big TV and an ivory-colored sofa facing each other. The sofa oddly gave a suspicion that it was once a white when it was made. Behind the sofa, there was a semi-kitchen, a table covered with bags of snacks, microwave and toaster. The real kitchen was out of sight from where he was standing but he was sure that he didn't want to see it. Around the walls, there were shelves filled with random books and magazines, toys and other things that didn't seem like anything but junks to Lassiter. And most importantly, there was clothes lying and hanging around everywhere. When he spotted a big popcorn machine, Lassiter turned to Shawn and gave him '_Please tell me your place is robbed_' look.

"No, I did not get robbed. This place is a whole lot better than the last one." Shawn pouted. "And please note that my father just got here and it's cleaner than usual."

"Sure."

"Really. Um, just be careful with my pet rat Tom. I also had a cat name Jerry but he-"

Lassiter groaned in annoyance and kissed Shawn to shut him up. It was the best way to keep Spencer from babbling on and on. A small chuckle rolled out between Shawn's lips as they moved to the couch and fell down. Somehow Lassiter was on his back. He didn't like the positioning. He tried to flip it but there were few problems; the couch was small, and Shawn was a lot heavier than he expected. It was as if Shawn was trying to manhandle him. _Oh, that's not gonna happen._ He struggled to find his way out of Spencer's weirdly strong arms and to position him on the top.

Shawn made a weird face. "This is not a competition, Lassie. We're making out, not solving a crime which is kinda off from the definition of competition 'cause I always win."

"I found out that Garrison was the killer first."

"…Touché."

_Huh,_ _Spencer said touché. That's really therapeutic._ Lassiter thought idly.

"Anyway, pineapple it up, Detective! Just _relax_." Shawn leaned closer. But instead of kissing, he sank his teeth on the detective's neck. A pleasant sound leaked out from Lassiter's lips. "It's not a competition."

Feeling hot breath right on his skin, Lassiter almost groaned lowly. "I know."

"You know?" Shawn pulled away slowly and wiggled the eyebrows playfully.

The sensation Lassiter was experiencing drove his mind to blank. He didn't even notice that Shawn had already got rid of the tie and unbuttoned the white shirts on Lassiter. Snickering, he opened up the shirts and ran his hands down on the hairy chest. Then slowly, Shawn moved his fingers to the exposed nipples of Lassiter. His touch was gentle. He played them for few seconds before placing his lips on one of it. Shawn grazed it softly. A lightening-like pleasure went through the cop making his cock grow hard.

"S-Spencer," Gasping, Lassiter looked up the brunet who was now grinning. "I'm not s-sure where you are trying to go with that."

"Oh, don't you worry, Lassiepants." Shawn chuckled reaching to the waist of the detective. His eyes still locked on Lassiter's, he easily unbuckled the pants. Lassiter flinched slightly as Shawn slid further down his hand to the crotch. He gently rubbed the fabric of the dress pants. The touch of the obvious erection by Shawn was good enough to make Lassiter to gulp in a mixture of lust and tension. "I surely know where this is going." The devilish psychic smiled sheepishly.

"Wait, wait, are you-" He couldn't end the sentence as Shawn's hand slid down beneath the boxer and pumped his cock few times under the pants. A short breath spilled out from him. Closing his eyes, Lassiter leaned back shivering with the pleasure. It was much better than the obscure, blurry dream. Shawn was skilled than he thought. The pace of stroking was fast generally, but it slowed down once in a while moving down fully then springing up swiftly. While his hand is on work, his lips played with Lassiter's sensitive nipple. After few more strokes, Shawn moved down freeing the cock from the fabric. He flashed a cheeky smile to the other man and sucked in Lassiter with full length. Lassiter swallowed a moan grabbing the couch as hard as he could.

"Relax, Carlton." Shawn chuckled with a heavy breath, not wasting any time pumping the cock with his hand while he took some breath.

"I am relaxed." Carlton replied started to feeling the pressure running through his spine to the crouch. "Spencer, you should slow down." He said breathing deep trying to hold back.

"How about we move this to the bedroom?" said Shawn standing up from the detective. The bulge on his jean was obvious. Like it was nothing, Shawn simply removed the jean and threw it away, somehow managed to not fall down heading to the room.

"Is that a _starfish?_" Lassiter asked with a frown staring at the other man's underpants. There was a big red starfish picture on it.

"The most magnificent creature on the sea!" exclaimed Shawn from the other room. "I mean, it's a star-shaped!"

Lassiter shook his head slightly feeling stupid to even ask. He stood up from the couch and took off his pants too, followed Shawn with awkward step- It was really hard to walk when the cock is fully erect. And as he entered the room he was attacked by the little brunet and tackled down to the bed. "Spencer!" He snarled angrily wiggling under the other man.

Shawn laughed foolishly. "Hello, Lassie." Then he put a kiss on frowning man's cheek.

"Get off, Spencer." Lassiter pushed him away growling.

"I just gave you a blow job and you still call me Spencer?"

"I will call you Spencer no matter what."

"You're a hell of a grumpypants, Lassieface." Pouting, Shawn hopped up and feigned a sigh. "Maybe because you haven't had sex in five months."

Lassiter stared at Shawn with shock. "What- how did you-"

"Hello? Head Psychic Detective SBPD?" Shawn placed his fingers on the temples with a mischievous smile.

"You're just a consultant." grumbled Lassiter looking up at the psychic with a frown.

"Oh, we'll see, Detective Lassiter, we'll see." Snickering lightly, Shawn unbuttoned his lime and white plaid shirts and tossed it on the pile of clothes. '_el mio sopa encanta_' shirts left on his body, he pulled it up and threw it away too. Now he had nothing but the starfish underpants.

Lassiter watched the process lazily lying on the bed. His eyes followed the smooth waistline down to the thigh to calf. Shawn had a nice body for who had eating habits of teenager and seriously lacked exercise. "Whatever you're planning, Spencer, there's no way in hell I'm gonna let you have that title."

"My extrasensory perception begs to differ." Shawn replied literally throwing himself on the bed. "Anyway, since we're gonna go down this road till the end… Lassie, this is your first time with a guy, right?" asked him casually, lifting his legs in the air so that he could remove the pants.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Lassiter looked away and answered. "…Yes."

"Okay, I'll do the ground work, then." Shawn sat up on the bed and reached for the nightstand standing and supporting a tower of magazines weakly. He drew the bottom drawer and took out a condom and a bottle of transparent liquid. Shawn tossed the condom to the detective. "Always use the condom." Then he opened the bottle squeezing out the drop on his index finger, then stretched out on the bed. Lassiter didn't know how the homosexual sex exactly work but he had the basic idea. _That bottle must be the lubricant_, he thought.

Shawn lifted his legs a bit again. With his tongue stuck out slightly between his lips, he reached down to his bottom and started to rub around the hole. He worked on it slowly and carefully. Then after taking a deep breath, Shawn poked the finger to the inside, rotating it with mild pace. The expression on his face was weird, slightly embarrassed maybe. But soon it drastically changed to pleasured with orgasm. He started to pace and sweat as he continued on putting the second finger. Moaning quietly, Shawn slid in his fingers deeper. A minute later, he took out the fingers and turned to Lassiter. "We're good to go." He said stroking his cock in slow pace.

Both bewildered and turned on by what he just saw, Lassiter nodded briefly. He jerked his cock few time till it got hard enough, and put the condom. He moved toward Shawn, but hesitated before doing anything. He knew what to do- It was obvious, actually- but didn't know what to do at the same time. "Uh, Spencer, I don't really-"

"Oh, come on, Lassie! I did all the work!" whined Shawn sitting up from the bed again. Pouting, he let out a sigh pushing Lassiter down to the bed. "Okay, fine. It's your first time, I get it."

"Spencer, what-"

"Don't move." He hissed at the detective, almost jumping up on the man. Carefully, he moved down to the dripping hard dick, and slid its tip in his hole. The more he went down, Shawn let out half-moan, half-curse under his breath.

It was tight, and heated. Lassiter jerked involuntarily bucking up his hip. He could swear to sweet lady Justice that his body wasn't in his control anymore. _Oh, God_, he mumbled inside his head. Shawn breathed heavily moving down in mild pace. The expression in his face was oddly amusing; longing and a slight pain. Then suddenly he pumped up and down his hip literally fucking himself. Shawn leaned toward Lassiter and kissed him hungrily.

Chuckling, Shawn moved to the junction of Lassiter's shoulder and neck. "Carlton, you're making really funny face right now." He whispered on the skin nipping on it. Shawn moved softly on top of Lassiter, hitting the spot for himself. Time to time he gave a kiss to the detective.

"Shut u- God, Spencer, I'm close." Lassiter grunted lowly feeling his cock filled up with hot, pleasuring pressure. He clawed the sheet trying to hold back.

"Alrighty." Shawn came up from the making the kiss marks and grinned stupidly big. Then he moved his hips back and forth, closing his eyes with a light moan.

Lassiter let out a short gasp as his cock couldn't bare the pressure anymore and came inside Shawn. He shut his eyes feeling the relief and fatigue after coming. "Fuck, Spencer…"

Still grinning, Shawn lifted himself from the wet dick of Lassiter and then fell down on the bed with his back. "You okay there, Lassie?" Shawn asked with a heavy breath, started to jerking off.

Exhausted, Lassiter lazily turned his eyes to Shawn. "Yeah." He gazed the brunet, more exactly the repeated pumping around the crotch. Out of blue, probably drunk with the orgasm he just had, Lassiter asked blankly. "You want some hand?"

Shawn stopped, seemed obviously surprised. Lassiter took that as 'yes'. He reached to the other man's and placed his palm around it, while his eyes locked on Shawn's face. Shawn almost hissed inhaling the air. Satisfied with the reaction, Lassiter leisurely stroked the cock covered with pre-cum. Then he gradually fastened the speed, pumping it to the top and down fully.

"Holy shit…" Shawn murmured gaspingly shutting his eyes closed.

Lassiter forced his body to lift and moved his head to the crotch. He gulped with a hesitation staring at the cock before swallowing it down to his throat. He closed his eyes feeling the weird taste- salty but sweet at the same time- of pre-cum. Lassiter bobbed his lips up and down sucking Shawn. The sounds escaped from Shawn's control were oddly satisfying. Choked and gasping, Shawn squirmed helplessly.

"L-Lassie, _Carlton_, I can't-" A voice was squeezed out from Shawn. Lassiter quickly pulled away before Shawn came all over his crotch and stomach. He didn't want to get covered in other man's sperm- even though he just sucked a dick and tasted the pre-cum.

Lassiter fell down on the bed feebly, letting out a sigh. Not a sigh-sigh but satisfied 'I'm done' sigh. It should be panicking, because he just had a sex with Spencer. But his brain was pretty much out of function. The only thing he could think of was that the sex was good. Lazily, he removed the condom filled with cum but couldn't find a place to throw it away.

"Lassie, can you pass me the tissue?" Shawn asked from the other side of the bed. Lassiter turned his eyes, found the psychic looking down at himself covered with cum. "This is a mess."

Lassiter snorted. "You're whole place is mess." He looked around and spotted the tissue down on the floor. He grabbed it and took some to cover the condom, and passed it to Shawn.

Shawn took the tissue and cleaned his body. "You didn't mention it when I was kissing you."

"I thought it was a mess. Aren't you supposed to read my mind or something?" countered Lassiter.

"You're sexy vibe was getting in my perception." Shawn said with a flirting chuckle.

Too tired to come up any sarcastic comments, Lassiter just let it slide away. He just gave a shrug.

"Ugh, tissue was a bad idea. I'm gonna hit the shower." Shawn mumbled looking down at his belly now pieces of paper tissues stuck on the skin. He hopped from the bed and turned to Lassiter. "Aren't you gonna come?"

Lassiter gave him a quizzical look. "I don't think so. That's too much Spencer at a day. I'll take it later."

"Oh, no. Not like that." Shawn shook his head. "The clean water only runs for 5 minutes and after that you need to wait for an hour and a half."

"Please tell me this place follows California Building Standards."

"This place follows California Building Standards." Shawn responded with a smirk.

Lassiter narrowed his eyes on Spencer. "You're just repeating my words, aren't you?"

"Probably."

"Let's just go to a seedy hotel next time." Lassiter sighed standing up from the bed.

"There's next time?" grinned Shawn.

"… Shut up, Spencer."


	10. Epilogue

**A/N: ...I am sorry. I should have written epilogue weeks ago but... yeah, I don't have any excuse. Sorry. But I hope you guys enjoyed it... even though it's poorly written with horrible grammar and scarce vocabulary. but in my defense this is my first fic and English is not my mother language...**

**Speaking of vocabulary, thank you kind sir/ma'am pineapple-dalek for pointing out my failure to realize I was using 'pacing' instead of 'panting'. I proved my stupidity to you guys by using the wrong word *burns into flame of shame*. Anyway, I changed it all and thank you for letting me know :)**

**Anyway, thank you for all to come this far with this story :)**

* * *

Head detective Carlton Lassiter entered the precinct, walking in somewhat clutched manner. Everything was same as the usual. The clock hadn't even hit 8 o'clock but the sun was already dazzling down through the window, his right hand carrying the morning coffee- the usual thick black coffee, the other one holding his usual dark brown suitcase, his hair neatly combed and all. Except that he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, which was quite unusual, and that the look on his face was subtly different. Detective Lassiter seemed both annoyed- which was the half of the usual expression of his, but also, delighted. Some workers in the station found it odd, since the head detective was not exactly the happiest person at SBPD, and probably on the face of the earth. But most of them figured it's good for him that he was happy, and chose not to bother the detective.

Lassiter rushed over to his desk and hid behind the case files and paper works keeping his face straight. He was practically saying 'Do not disturb' without words, his eyes fixed to the work. It was as if he didn't want his mood right now to be changed by any interruption. And everyone in the station had learned enough through the years that nothing good comes from poking the detective- except for his partner, Juliet O'Hara.

"You're in good mood today." She commented quietly handing him some paper works for Garrison case's trial, and reports from the coroner Woody.

"No, I'm not." Lassiter responded in monotone, his attention not given to his partner.

"Yes, you are."

He slowly looked up from the piles of papers, clearly not amused. Wrinkling his nose, he asked, "Can I help you with something, O'Hara?"

"Oh, no, God forbids me to care about your personal life, of course. I was merely dropping these papers."

"Well then, thank you." He picked up some papers and read through it until he noticed that Juliet was still standing there with her arms crossed tightly. She clearly appeared to be disturbed by something, and Lassiter, being a considerate, kind partner, took the bite. "What?"

"You're wearing the same clothes."

His face froze still. "No, I'm not." He lied avoiding the eye contact.

"You never wear the same clothes in a row unless- ah…" A small smirk suddenly appeared on her lips as she nodded slowly. "So tell me, head detective, how did the rest of your evening go?"

"I believe that is none of your business, O'Hara. And frankly I don't know why you're so interested in my personal life. If you had a boyfriend-"

"Ooh, I wouldn't go there if I were you, Lassieface." Too focused on hiding his blush, he didn't notice the snarky psychic's presence near them eavesdropping their conversation. Lassiter flushed hopelessly as Shawn flashed that stupid grin over the desk. "Speaking of which, Jules, I've got the perfect guy for you. His name is Shawn and he is working in the same field as you! A fellow crime fighter!"

"You can't introduce yourself from the third person view, Shawn." Gus' comment followed the Shawn's. "And you're barely a fighter."

"Gus, don't be a taco without salsa."

"That makes me hungry... So, taco for lunch?"

"You know I can say no to a taco."

"What-" Lassiter with a slight hint of blush left on the corner of his face, broke the two best friends chattering without clear topic. "-the hell are you idiots doing in the station?"

Shawn, breaking into a big grin again, patted the cranky detective on the head, which he slapped away immediately. "Aw, don't be silly, _Carlton_, of course I came to see you and your awfully tidy hair."

Lassiter responded with the silent glare.

"Have you learned nothing from last night? Stop poking the bear, Shawn."

"I wouldn't say _I_ poke him." Shawn shrugged nonchalantly.

Gus gave his friend a look then turned to the detectives. "We're here for collecting our consultant fee."

Juliet tilted her head to a side, checking her wristwatch. "But it's before eight. Chief's not even here yet."

Gus sighed. "That's what I told Shawn when he burst into my apartment at seven..."

"I thought Shawn sleeps ten hours a day till noon."

"It has been scientifically proved that with the ten hours sleep a day, people can use the fifteen hours of day more effectively." Shawn answered with pride in his voice.

"A day is twenty four hours." Gus corrected him.

"Then why there would be 25 hours hotels? Think Gus, think." Then his attention drastically took turn to the donuts that McNab just brought. He skipped to the stretchy officer. "Buzz, my man!"

Everyone stared at Shawn with a weird look. The younger detective broke the silence with a plausible theory. "Is having a sugar rush?"

"Hope that's the case. The last time he was that happy was when he bought the motorcycle. It ended with him bumping into the garage wall."

Soon Shawn came back with a box full of donuts, with his mouth full of the sweets too. He murmured something keep chewing on. Gus picked up a cruller, Juliet declined politely with a shake of her head. Then the happy brunet with donuts turned to Lassiter, who had been quiet for a while. He swallowed the lump and spoke up, "Donuts, detective?"

After an intense, long 'I hate you' glare, Lassiter grumbled, "No thank you."

"It's really good, come on, Lassie, feel it." Shawn took out a donut and forwarded it to the detective. "Feel's good, feel's nice, feel's strong."

With a low, stressed growl escaping from him, Lassiter just stood up and walked away without words.

"Shawn!" Juliet sighed pinching the bridge of her nose. "He was in good mood this morning!"

"Really? Lassie?" Frowning, Gus shoved the cruller between his teeth.

"Hmm, interesting... Don't worry, Jules, I'll go fix him." Shawn smirked and ran off following Lassiter. "Lassie! Wait!"

* * *

Shawn scurried down the hallway following up _his_ detective whose pace was really fast- yes, _his_. A small, goofy chuckle escaped his lips. Yes, Shawn Spencer was hovering over the moon since last night. It happened so unexpectedly, but he always expected this to happen, and it really happened. He and Carlton Lassiter got together last night. The mere thought of it made him grin.

Of course, the moves Shawn made on Lassiter were pretty obvious, but he had never expected that it would actually work. It was more I-know-it's-stupid-but-better-jump-than-sorry-desp erate acts. So you could imagine how excited and pumped and cheerful and happy Shawn was. He was in a sunny-bright spirit, walking on air.

"Lassie!" Shawn called out his detective, having a hard time catching up with him. "Carlton! Head detective! Detective Dipsticks!" He sang- his tone would probably ten times happier than usual- until he finally reached to Lassiter.

"Spencer, do me a favor and go as far as you could away from me then stay there forever." Lassiter turned around with his sarcastic, fake smile, folding his arms tightly.

Shawn quickly skimmed the detective up and down, which was all that he needed to read stuff. The same suit from yesterday with black tie, because he had stayed in Shawn's last night and came to work straight. His hair combed perfectly as always, but smelled differently since he used the different shampoo from Shawn's. And, of course, there was a noticeable frown on his face, wrinkling the forehead. There could be multiple reasons why Carlton Lassiter frowns, but Shawn knew exactly why today- he was bothered because he felt cheerful too, if he had those kind of emotion. "Oh, you grouchy you." Cackling, Shawn nudged the detective on the chest, and pulled his finger away swiftly before Lassiter snatch it and break it. "Frowning makes you ten years older, Carlton."

"Don't call me _Carlton_, Spencer."

"You can call me Shawn." He suggested hopefully.

"Not happening."

"Oh, come on! Just once! I'm pretty sure we have past the first name basis town miles ago!" he whined, then mumbled quietly, "Well, more precisely a hot sweaty sex and again in a shower…"

That was enough to make Lassiter to blush like a carrot. "I told you not to speak about it!"

"You _did_ say that." Shawn cackled teasingly. He really liked to watch Lassiter blushing hopelessly.

"Well, then listen to it!" Lassiter snapped, "I'm not kidding, Spencer, if someone finds out this could be a big problem."

The psychic rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. It's controversy, and I should keep my mouth shut."

"So you understood. That's good."

"Maybe." He feigned a pout. To tell the truth, Shawn really wanted to hug and kiss and hug the man in front of him in the public, to show the world that he and Lassiter were… well, they were not in the labeling state, but still, that they had experienced something together. He had to bite his tongue in this morning, pushing down his inner urge to talk about the last night to his best friend- he may or may not had intense amount of dried and sugarcoated pineapples to keep himself together. But then again, if he couldn't express his affection toward this lanky cranky man, he always could do it discreetly when no one's around.

Smirking playfully, Shawn looked around the station. _Yes, the coast is clear_. He tip toed up so that he could whisper seductively into the detective's ear. "So… are you busy tonight, Detective?" He could sense Lassiter's body tensing up.

"Son of a bitch, get your face off of me!" Lassiter pushed him away with a red face.

"What? No one's around." He shrugged, smiling innocently. "Come on, Lassie, it's a simple yes or no question!"

"Even if I was not busy, there's no way in hell I'd go out a date with you, Spencer."

Shawn titled his head to side. "Who said anything about a date?" Lassiter's reaction was so laughable- opening his mouth to say something but closing it because he had no proper response. Shawn giggled like a child.

"Shut your cake hole, Spencer." grumbled Lassiter wrinkling his forehead.

"I'll consider it if you buy me a cake."

"You do realize that I carry a gun, right?"

"Oh, don't I know that." Shawn said with a chuckle. His eyes subtly looking at the gun around Lassiter's belt holster then moved to the belt, then down there… "How about now? Are you busy now?" He asked out of the blue.

"…What?"

"Are you busy now?"

"Spencer, I- are you out of your mind? I am at work!"

"That didn't stop you yesterday." Shawn mumbled under his breath. _Man, now I gotta wait till the night?_

"You're the one who- You know what? I'm not gonna have this conversation with you."

"Then what do you want to talk about?"

"Well, there's so many topic to choose. You leaving me alone, you going home, me arresting you, me accidentally shooting you… take your pick." Lassiter feigned the smile. Then after shooting a sharp glare at him- which was oddly hot and intense, Lassiter started to walk away from him.

Shawn immediately tagged after Lassiter, pouting slightly from frustration. "Lassie, don't be a guy named Guy but pronounced _Gui_." Then he quickened the steps so that he could shoot his cute puppy eyes to the man. "Come on, it's only eight and no one should work this early in the morning! That's against the law."

"You sound unhappy." Lassiter commented without looking back. "I like that."

"Lassie-"

"Stop following me."

"Then stop making me follow you."

"You stop." snapped the detective.

"You first!" retorted the psychic somewhat crossly.

"Shut it, Spencer!" Lassiter finally burst into shouting at Shawn clearly annoyed.

Also frustrated, Shawn kept his pout and stopped following. "Fine!"

"_Fine!_"

"I'll see you tonight then!"

"_Fine! _–wait,"


End file.
